Zeros
by GydroZMaa
Summary: In the Tekniq Era when technology can predict the ideal relationships for humans, Emil Steilsson has waited his entire life to meet his soul mate. But when his special someone turns out to not only be Leon Wang, a famous pop star and actor but a guy, as well, he must decide where their relationship will ultimately draw a line, be it friendship, love, or nothing at all.
1. I

The weather channel predicted light showers this afternoon. It is morning. He will not need an umbrella where he is going.

His brother, a clockwork morning coffee drinker, leans back from his chair before he sets out.

"Are you nervous?" he asks.

"No," comes a reply. "See you later."

Railways and buses are abundant in the city. The world has changed since the Tekniq Era. It is a better place. It is a more convenient place.

Where the tide of the pedestrians takes him does not concern him. Time only matters. He will know he is in the right place when the numbers turn into zeros. He continues to walk until then.

The crowds soon become congested. He slips past the pedestrian traffic and changes his route in a different direction. He remembers there being a park on a rooftop of a conventional building. He goes there.

The light showers start earlier than expected. His hair dampens in the light moisture soaking into his white bangs. There is no one else here on the rooftop save for a lone observer leaning against the railing. His head is turned towards the city below the entire time. That leaves both of them at peace.

The minutes tick by. There are only two minutes left. He takes out his crystal-engraved pocket watch to reassure himself. One minute and seventeen seconds left. The silver face and sapphire numbers flicker in the overcast light.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

He starts. The young man from the railing is looking at him with a distant gaze. There is only one person he can be talking to.

"Yes," he replies and lowers his head. He does not need the unnecessary attention from this person. He is waiting for someone else.

Thirty-three seconds. His heartbeat quickens. It is as if there is a butterfly fluttering in his chest, desperate to escape from its rib-caged prison. He holds it off and swallows his nervousness. That person will be here soon.

Another ten seconds pass. He thinks to begin his mental countdown at ten seconds. To reassure himself, he slips out his pocket watch and checks the time. The little numbers tick by. Those engraved for the years, days, hours, and minutes are all zeros. It will not be long before all the numbers display a blank.

His heart jolts with electricity. His feelings are overwhelming. Twelve seconds. Now eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.

"Four. Three…Two…One…"

And the numbers all show zeros.

He looks up at the only door leading off and to the roof. It does not open. No one else comes. He looks at his pocket watch with a crease between his eyebrows. The numbers are never wrong. This is impossible.

Perhaps his watch broke. Fear overtakes when him he thinks of that possibility. Maybe he was not supposed to meet that person today. Maybe he was supposed to meet that person many days ago, maybe even years.

He stares at the door for a good three minutes. The rain has soaked his hair through and through now. His brother will scold him if he catches a cold.

No one comes. There is only him and the other lone person on the roof.

His stomach wavers. He feels sick. This was not supposed to happen. Not like this. There was something wrong with the system. Someone should have come. He should be talking to that person right now.

His lips and throat are dry in spite of the humidity. He thinks that because it is raining it will be alright to cry. The raindrops will mask his tears on his way home.

He seizes himself and stands up. It is then that the other man makes his presence known again.

"Your watch went off, didn't it?" he says.

He stops dead in his tracks. Was he watching him? He looks over his shoulder and sees the man for who he is. His face almost looks familiar. He studies him. No. He has never met this person in his life before today. He still answers him.

"Yes," he replies. "It did. But how did you know?"

It cannot be a coincidence. It never is. Some call it predetermined chance. Those who do not know any better call it luck. And then there are those who call it fate.

The man pulls out a crystal-engraved pocket watch. He pops it open and reveals a dazzling golden coating with ruby-red numbers. They have all stopped at zeros. He is he one he has been waiting for.

He refuses to believe it at first. This is not who he wants to see. The person that will change the course of his life, who will ultimately be a part of his life, is him?

"No." He steps back. "You can't be that person."

The man tilts his head as if in confusion. "Why not?"

His lips tremble as he speaks. "B-Because…You're a-a—"

"A guy?" he finishes.

He nods, embarrassed.

The man does not show him any sympathy. "Put me in your shoes," he snaps. "How do you think I feel right now knowing the most important person in my life is another guy?"

"Not very good," he assumes with a hung head.

"No shit," he curses. "I've waited nineteen years of my life for this? For you?"

His words sting. He flinches at how direct he is. He can relate, though. To say he is disappointed is an understatement. But he does not let his words slide so easily. He did not want this, either.

"I've waited nineteen years, too," he speaks in a low voice. "I didn't expect you to be…whatever it is you're supposed to be." He looks bitterly at his pocket watch. "I don't know if this is supposed to be a joke or not. I thought things would be different. I thought things would be better."

The man snorts at his words. "Better?" he echoes. "You might want to take that back depending on how you look at it."

He does not understand and remains silent.

"Let me ask you this—do you know who I am?"

"No. We've never met before."

It does not look like that was the correct answer to give. "We didn't have to meet for you to know who I am. Seriously? You really don't know me?"

"No," he repeats. "Am I supposed to?" He cannot help but feel that he has seen him somewhere before.

The man grabs him by his collar. There is a dark look in his eyes. "I'm Leon," he growls. "Leon Wang. As in the actor?"

It makes sense now. He remembers his face. He has seen it on movie posters and commercials. His face is everywhere these days. How did he miss it before?

"O-Oh," he stutters. "Yes, I remember now."

His grip releases from his collar to give him room to breathe. "You'd better remember it," he spits. "What about you? You got a name?"

He lowers his head. His name cannot compare.

"Emil," he tells him. "Emil Steilsson."

"Huh." This Leon character leans back against the railing and stares back at the city. "And I snuck out of my hotel room for this?" He looks at him again. "But you're not half-bad looking. Do you dye your hair?"

He fingers the messy tufts of silvery white hair on his sides. "It's natural."

Leon's thick eyebrows arch. "You don't say. Huh." He licks the rain running from his lips. "I think this actually might work out."

Emil blinks. "What will?"

"Us," he bluntly answers. "You, me, we can be a thing. Not…soul mates or whatever. Just…" He shrugs. "Friends, I guess?"

"Friends," he echoes. The air grows still around him. The light showers continue to fall and soak him slowly but surely. The city smells like light honey. His surroundings are clear. He is alive. He is breathing. His numbers stopped at their zeros. This is really the one he is destined to be with.

"Something wrong?" the actor asks. His bangs are noticeably stylized. They part in asymmetrical lengths in the front and sweep to the sides in elegant locks. It makes sense considering he is an actor. He looks nice all the same.

Emil's stomach tightens when he wraps his arms around his waist. His heart is still fluttering. It is a different kind of fluttering.

"…I've never had a friend before." His voice is so soft it can almost be a whisper. Leon cannot hear him with the rain pitter-pattering along the rooftop.

"What was that? Can you speak up?"

He speaks a little louder. "I've never had a friend before."

He hears it the second time. "Never?"

"Never." His arms tighten around his waist. "I thought it wouldn't matter when I met my significant other. I guess that isn't really happening."

"No. You're wrong there." His hand extends out to him. "You've got me."

He can hardly believe his ears. It is unusual for a celebrity to extend his generosity to a complete stranger. It does not even matter if their watches stopped at the same time. This sort of thing is rare or unheard of.

"You can't be serious." He leaves Leon's hand frozen in the rain.

"I am. Our numbers hit zero at the same time. We've gotta have something between us."

His lips nearly crack a smile. It is as if he is listening to a foreign language. No one ever tells him things like this. It must be what some call "fate."

"Maybe," he breaths a laugh and takes his hand. They shake and acknowledge each other's presence. "It's nice to finally meet you…Leon."

"Same here, Emil," he smiles. There is no doubt that he is an actor. All of his features are in the right place. He does not appear too feminine or too masculine. He is beautiful.

They at last break their handshake and make small talk on the solitary rooftop.

"What do you do for a living?" Leon asks him.

"Nothing," comes the reply. "I'm a college student."

"Hmm." He does not carry on the conversation.

"I'm going to assume you don't have the time to go to college?"

"Not exactly. I'm what you can call 'homeschooled.' My guardian teaches me."

"I didn't know you could get homeschooled at a college level."

"There's a first for everything."

Their voices fall into silence as the showers continue. Leon soon gets up from the railing and heads towards the door.

"You're leaving?" Emil asks.

"Yup. I need to get back before my agent and guardian finds out I'm missing. They can't give two shits if I came here to meet my soul mate. Oh. Before I go…" He slips his hand inside his pocket and takes out a little plastic card. Water droplets slide off the glossy surface like beads of oil to a swan's down. It is a business card.

"Give me a call," he says as he hands it over. "Just say your name. My agent will hook me up with you."

His throat is parched like paper when he takes it. It almost feels like he is taking a large check from a generous donor. It is a humbling feeling.

"I…thank you," he shyly says and pockets the card. "Will we see each other again?"

A flawless smile spreads on Leon's celebrity-winning lips. "We will. Until then." He taps his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs leaving Emil alone again. He stays a while before deciding to head back home to deliver the news to his brother. His soul mate is another guy. His name is Leon Wang. He is a celebrity. He is beyond perfect.

* * *

_This is my first time writing about Hong Kong and Iceland like this so please bear with me. This story is also loosely TiMER inspired. _


	2. II

Emil arrives home earlier than expected. His brother is still in the house since he decided to take the day off for his brother's special occasion. However, when he enters the dining room, he reads his younger brother's face only to see it is not one of positive love-struck emotions. There is something wrong.

"Did you see her?" he asks when his brother sits down.

Emil presses his lips together until they are chalk white from the lack of blood circulation. His lavender eyes are a dull shade of cloudy gray, and his hands are clumsily folded on top of the table; his thumbs are fidgeting and crossing over one another. These are all sure signs that something has been troubling him for the past hour or so.

"Emil," his brother speaks up. He places a thin but tender hand over his brother's folded ones. "Did you or did you not meet your other today?" He has always called the complimenting partner of another person "others." It is understandable where he is coming from, but to Emil, it is an entirely different scenario.

At last, he finally musters up his courage and his words, and with quivering lips struggling to form syllables, he tells him who he saw.

"Lukas," he pronounces his brother's name in shaky iterations, "I met him today."

His brother freezes for a moment. His eyebrows are arched in a slanted decline towards the bridge of his nose in complex scowl. One word stood out in particular from his brother's statement.

_Him._

He met _him_ today.

He holds himself back from an inquisition. He has an idea of how his brother must be experiencing right now. "Disappointment" is nowhere near enough to describe what he must be feeling. All that talk about him meeting his soul mate and living happily together may now be a thing of the past. This changes everything.

"Tell me what he was like," he says with a careful voice. While it is clearly a demand, it comes out with such serenity that his brother does not hesitate to provide him with some form of an answer.

With folded hands wrapped tightly in overlapping fists, he shuts his eyes and tells him.

"He…our watches went off at the same time. I went to the park on the rooftop. You remember the one?"

"Yes," Lukas nods. "I remember. Please continue."

Emil swallows a lump in his throat before doing so. "He was already there when I went onto the roof." One hand absentmindedly moves to his hair and fingers a lock. The ends are dripping wet. The showers must have started early today.

He continues. "I knew he was a guy so I didn't pay attention to him. And when my watch went off…" He chokes up. His hand falls back onto the table, clenching up into tight, constricted balls. His knuckles are white. When Lukas' eyes move to the tablecloth, he notices there are wet droplets, not from the rain gathering from his hair, but from the tears spilling from his eyes. This must be an extreme shock to him. He is honestly surprised his brother was able to hold in his emotions for this entire time.

"Sorry," he apologizes before his voice seizes up. He hiccups and covers his mouth with his hand, practically suffocating himself to hold in the tears. A hand moves to his shoulder, softly massaging him for comfort.

"It's alright, Ice," he whispers, his voice muting into a whisper. "It's alright."

Emil continues his episode for another good ten minutes before the tears finally come to a stop. Nineteen years is a long time to wait just to have his world come crumbling down on him.

When he finally recovers, his breath is shaky and hoarse. His eyes are swollen from the saltine tears, and his nose continues to run. There are wads of crumpled tissues scattered around him in a collection. Lukas tells him he will clean up for him.

"If it's too much, you don't have to tell me," he says, but he is not being entirely truthful. If his brother turned out like him, he needs to know. He wants to be able to help him through this. His case is slightly different, but all the same, he understands what he is going through.

"Ice…"

"No." His brother shakes his head and dabs his eyes with a tissue. "It's different. This isn't like you and…" He hiccups. "It's different," he repeats.

How different can it be, Lukas wonders? His other is a guy. Both of them suspected Emil would have a woman. How did it become like this?

"Lukas…" He wipes his nose and crumples another tissue into a fisted damp wad. "His name is Leon Wang."

_Leon Wang_. He plays the name over in his head like an archaic record player, an ancient device long outdated and only found in museums. The name is all too familiar. He thinks he heard it somewhere before, though his work keeps him busy from all else. There are few people he remembers. So why this person?

"You don't know him, either." To his amazement and conflicted disturbance, his brother laughs a little. It sounds forced, like the defeated laughter of someone who has accepted defeat and ruin.

"Should I know him?" he asks.

Emil's head lowers so much so that his neck is poised at a near ninety-degree angle. His voice has since fallen still.

"He's famous," he tells him. "He's an actor. A pop star, even. I looked into him on the way back. His face is all over the place. He even got mad at me for not knowing who he was."

Lukas is taken aback. So this is what his brother meant when he said this Leon person was different. He is on an entirely different level than his other, though he suspects this person cannot compare. No one ever will.

"Did he say anything to you?" he asks. He is careful to use the questions he reserved for his brother's other—the one that they both thought would be a woman.

"He gave me this." He pulls out a glossy white business card from his pocket. There is a crease from where he jammed it into his pants, but the letters and numbers are in plain sight to see. In jet-black capital letters, the card reads **Wang Studio**. Below that, Leon's name is not there, rather, a person by the name of Kiku Honda. Further down, there are numbers, a phone number, most likely, followed by an address.

"Golden Avenue," he mutters aloud. That is where the elite and the wealthy live. It must be where this agency of Leon's is.

"He told me to give him a call," Emil tells him. "If I tell them my name, his agent said he'd hook me up."

Lukas does not understand what he means by "hook me up," though he assumes he must be talking about getting ahold of him. Such lingo is past his knowledge.

"Why don't you give him a few days?" he suggests. "At least until you can sort some things out."

"Yeah," Emil nods. He takes his suggestion into consideration without any resistance.

"One more thing. How do you think he felt about you?"

His brother's silvery eyebrows creased and furrowed like it was a trick question he is unprepared for. At least, he recalls what his other told him. "He said that we can be friends."

"Friends," he repeats. His heart gives a little jolt. This will be the first time his brother will have ever managed to reach out to someone as a friend. Before, it was just the two of them, travelling along life's road and its whims. Never did they think they would need anyone else in their life because they were both fortunate enough to have others. However, in their rare instances, perhaps friends are better than nothing.

"That's impossible," he says. "And how old is he?"

"Nineteen. Like me."

"You've never had a friend your age before."

His brother's expression falls flat. "I've never had a friend, period."

He acknowledges that and leans back in his chair. "Well," he sighs, "at least you've found him. I was hoping it would be a woman, but if this is what they wanted, then there's nothing we can do about it. Still…" He moves his hand over to his brother's face and brushes back the bangs concealing his swollen eyes. "Since he's a celebrity, you'll have to be careful around him. There is no such thing as being friends with someone famous. They only use you for their personal gain. I don't care if he's your other or someone you just met on the streets. You cannot trust him. Understand?"

"Yes…" he timidly nods. His word remains absolute. Nothing gets past his older brother. What he says goes. There is no need for questioning. He is always right.

Lukas then gets up from his seat and pours his brother a glass of water. "Drink this," he says. "You must be dehydrated after that." His brother wordlessly takes the glass and sips some water. "And gets some rest," he adds. "It must have been a long day for you. You can worry about Leon another time."

"Mm-hmm," he says as he is finishing his water. When his glass is empty, he thanks his brother and heads to his room to take a nap. Sleep escapes him for the first fleeting moments. What will he say to Leon the next time they meet? What about the press? Will they affect Leon's career? Will they affect his livelihood? And most importantly of all…what will he be like as a friend?

His thoughts heavy with questions, Emil's eyelids grow heavy like sandbags and shut over his eyes. Soon, his breathing eases, and the quick hiccups from earlier subside as he drifts off into a deep slumber.

* * *

The next two days go by as normal. Emil goes to his college classes and returns to an empty house. Most days are like this when his brother is at work. And then there are other days when his brother can afford to come home early. It is these days when _he _comes over for a visit.

On the third day after meeting Leon, Emil comes home to the smell of earthen bread baking in the oven. His stomach growls from running on empty for the past five hours of school. The salty and herb-rich smells of cold cuts mix in with light but rich butter. Only one person would have the time to enter his house and find the time to bake like this.

"Oh! Ice! You're home!" A loud voice blasts his eardrums, and literally shakes the fragile porcelain and glassware perched on the shelves and glass cabinets. A well-built, tall, and jovial figure is standing in the kitchen. He is wearing Lukas' apron—which he, himself never uses, anyway—and is putting on a bright, wide smile too big for Emil's rigid jaws to manage. His most iconic feature of all, besides his loud voice, is his wild, upright blonde hair that points to the sky in messy, over-stylized tufts and spikes. There are points of it where it looks natural, and others where it looks like he dug his hand into a bucket of hair gel and spooned his hair over the top.

While he checks on the bread baking in the oven, Emil gives him a short greeting, sets down his bag, and plops into a seat. There are already slices of thick rye and cheese on the table. He helps himself to some while the visitor begins to run his mouth.

"So Lukas told me ya met your soul mate a few days ago," he says like he is asking him how is day was; his amount of casualness is beyond comprehension.

When Emil does not offer a reply, the man takes a seat across from him and places a large hand on his head, covering the entirety of his silver mop with a single palm.

"Hey, cheer up, Ice." He gives him a reassuring grin, but like most times, his efforts are futile. Emil shakes his hand off and continues to eat.

"Did Lukas tell you everything, Mathias?" he glowers at him with menacing lavender eyes.

His brother's longtime childhood friend falters and tucks his hand away. He continues to smile, but the effects are not as bright as before. Clearly the news must have troubled him, too, when he first heard about it.

"Yeah," he says, his voice considerably lower. "I mean, I was kinda hoping you would bring home a lovely lady and be all 'Hey, we're getting married!' or something like that." He laughs and proceeds to sheepishly scratch his forehead, a gesture he often does when he is feeling unsure of himself. "Ah, but I guess that's not the case, is it?"

Neither one of them speak. They both know the answer to that question.

The silence continues to spread in the room until the timer on the oven rings with a pleasant electronic _beep_, prompting Mathias to shoot out of his chair and throw on his oven mitts.

"Whoops! Gotta check on this real quick, Ice." He crouches over and pops open the oven. The muffled smell that was leaking through the vents now hits Emil's olfactory senses at full effects, sending hunger signals further down his stomach. Apparently the mere slices of bread and butter he ate were not enough to satiate his appetite.

Meanwhile, Mathias is placing a large wooden pick in the middle. When it comes out clean, he shuts off the oven and grabs the bread out. It is steaming with a pleasant earthy aroma as the golden crust crackles in place. Mathias wastes no time cutting into the loaf in equal pieces with inhumane precision and speed until, seconds later, there is a new batch of freshly cut bread sitting on a plate at the table.

"Thanks, Mathias," Emil says and takes a hot piece. He grabs a napkin to prevent his fingers from getting burned.

Mathias, in the meantime, grabs a piece of his own and starts to wolf down the bread. Emil assumes he has not eaten at all since baking. He must have saved himself until everything was ready, the dedicated fool.

"_Mm_—So, like…" He stops to chew. "About this soul mate of yers…"

Emil makes a face and flicks him straight on his exposed forehead. Mathias makes a small sound before swallowing.

"_Hrmph!_ What was that for?"

"You're twenty-nine years old," he frowns. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to chew with your mouth closed?"

"Whatcha talking about?" he chuckles. "I do, don't I?"

Emil gives up and eats the rest of his bread in silence. All the while, Mathias runs his mouth, though he is careful not to interrupt himself with his chewing sounds.

"I really didn't believe Lukas when he first told me about it," he says when he finishes. "I mean, another one of you guys finding a soul mate that's another guy? That's pretty much unheard of, doncha think?"

"It should be impossible," Emil sighs.

"Yeah. But that's kinda not too bad, either. And he said your soul mate's Leon Wang, right?"

"Yeah."

"Leon Wang as in—"

"The famous guy. Yes." He sighs again. Ever since finding out about Leon Wang, he keeps hearing and seeing his name everywhere. Even the girls at the college he attends talk about him and his newest movies. Online, there are articles upon articles detailing parts of his life in painfully specific details, glossing over his quirky habits, cataloging what he eats, pouring over what he does for his workout routines, and disclosing which stylists he goes to. He is, in short, a real-life celebrity in the flesh.

"Gee." Mathias chuckles to himself. "Who would've thought that a humble guy like you'd end up with such a big hotshot like him, huh?"

Emil fingers his short bangs and brushes them aside. "I certainly didn't think this would happen."

"Tell me about it!" he laughs. "You're going to be famous! Imagine what the press is going to say when they find out Leon Wang's soul mate is a—!"

But he never finishes because before he can utter another syllable, something goes flying across the dining room and into his face. When the shouting and cursing dissipate, Emil sees that the object that struck him is a textbook—a heavy one at that.

"I think that's enough, Mathias." It is Lukas. He has returned from the office for today. "Noisy idiot," he additionally grumbles when he throws down his jacket and bag.

"Hi, Brother," Emil casually greets him when he grabs a piece of bread. "How was it today?"

"Busy," he yawns and nibbles a piece of crust like a contemptuous mouse.

The fragile silence is soon cut short when Mathias recovers from the protruding bump on the side of his cranium. Both brothers know he tends to exaggerate over his injuries like a whining child in order to get attention. After a while, he will give up to their lack of sympathy like he always does.

"Ha…" He pants and flops on the table. "It's nice to see you, too, Lukas."

Lukas, not one to give anyone but his brother a warm greeting, throws a cold, distant look his way without so much as a "Hello." One may never expect that they, like Emil and Leon, had their watches stop at the exact same moment and at the exact same time.

"Anyway," he weakly chuckles when he gathers himself together, "Ice an' I were having a heart-to-heart chat about you-know-who."

"So I heard from down the block," Emil's brother remarks. He means to say that in order to imply how loud Mathias is; however, the remark sails past his ears and misses its target.

"I was wondering if you were alright with this an' all," he continues on. "Seeing how this means Ice is going to be getting a lot of attention pretty soon. You cool with that, Lukas?"

The crust between his fingers crumbles in his grip. He can barely contain himself at how normally Mathias treats this situation. Emil's life until now has always revolved around him. At the time, he thought it would not matter if he found someone he truly loved. After all, did people not say, "If you truly love someone, set them free?"

But this Leon character…Emil will never—_must _never—fall in love with him. It will be like asking for his heart to be broken. Beyond the cameras and the photos, how much of him is actually real? And if and when Emil uncovers who he really is, how will he be able to handle it?

Emil, sensing his brother's conflicting distress, steps in and tries to take the reins of the conversation. "It's not going to be like that, Mathias," he hurriedly says. "When I talked with Leon, it just sounded like he wanted us to be friends." His hands start to fidget. "Just because we're guys, it doesn't mean we have to necessarily _love _each other, right?"

He sees his brother relax a little and assumes that was what he was so worked up about.

"All my life, I've always thought that as long as there's someone out there who really cared for me, nothing else would matter—there would always be one person that I could be with and always be happy around. Leon might not be someone like that, maybe not even along the lines of a real friend, but I want to know the real him. If this is what they wanted, then I'm sure it wasn't without a good reason."

Mathias blinks his sky-blue eyes. "Whatever floats your boat, Ice. I'm not bent on stopping you. Do what you want to do." Then, he places a large hand over Lukas' crisscrossed fingers. "Right, Lukas?"

Lukas gives him his answer with a face full of fists. Emil excuses himself from the table when the noise escalates into a screaming fit. When he retreats into his room, he turns to his phone and eyes the business card that remains sitting idly and harmlessly on his desk. He goes over to it and stares at it, the black letters and numbers cutting into his eyes with sharp colors despite the blinds concealing his window being shut.

"_Why don't you give him a few days?" _

He still remembers his brother's suggestion. This is the third day since he last spoke with Leon. Three days sounds like a sufficient amount of time to get back to him. It is supposed to be a lucky number, after all, he tells himself as he begins to dial the numbers on his phone.

* * *

In an agency on the other side of the city, centered in Golden Avenue, high atop Wang Studios, and located in the branching office for one of the studio's best agents, a man by the name of Kiku Honda receives an incoming call from an unknown source. He will normally delete such calls without a second's thought, but his boss's son (also considered one of his clients) instructed him to be on the lookout for any unknown callers coming his way. Because of those instructions, he was forced to take calls from companies and agencies trying to make deals with everyone's newest and most beloved star: Leon Wang.

All of them were declined.

This however…

"Wang Studio representative Kiku Honda speaking," he answers with a businesslike voice, void of any emotion but chipper in attitude for his reputation's sake. "How may I help you?"

He mentally prepares a small speech of polite decline at the ready. It always helps to expect the unexpected when the smaller agencies manage to get ahold of his number.

But instead, much to his surprise, the voice over the phone expresses less confidence than even his half-managed tone. In fact, it is almost _timid_. Surely this voice cannot belong to a representative of an agency or company.

"Um…Excuse me. I'm sorry."

Judging by the slight dip in tone, he suspects it is a boy around his late teens. On a better day he might have found his apology to be cute.

"I-I'm Emil Steilsson. Leon said that if I wanted to get in touch with him that I should call this number…?"

He seems oddly innocent. Whatever his relationship with Leon is, this person amuses him—at least long enough that he does not consider hanging up immediately.

"One moment, please," he tells the caller and puts him on hold. Then, he starts to dial Leon on a separate line. For convenience's sake, there is a phone hooked directly to all of the important members of Wang Studio. His call to Leon goes through, and he waits for three rings before the line picks up.

"What's up, Kiku?" a snappy voice answers. At this point, Kiku knows Leon is not so impatient as he is always short on time. He decides to be quick.

"A certain Emil Steilsson is on the other line," he tells him. "Is this the person you were waiting for?"

"Oh, yeah, him," he hears him chuckling through the speaker. "Yeah, put him on."

"Right away." He connects the lines and lets the two go about their business. For privacy's sake, he hangs up on his end and continues to do his work.

* * *

Back at his house, Emil is pacing around his room. He has never called someone like this before. The only living people he can think of ever calling in his entire life are bickering like a married couple downstairs. That leaves this Kiku person and Leon to be the only other ones he has ever spoken over the phone with.

Suddenly, someone answers on the other line after what seemed like an eternity of on-hold elevator music. The muscles in his body slightly relax when he recognizes the voice.

"Hello? This Emil?"

"Um…yes. It's me." His feet have since stopped in place, but now his free hand is pulling at his sweater out of nervousness. It feels almost as nerve-wracking as if he is standing in front of Leon in real life.

"Hey, how's it going?" he chuckles over the line. His casual tone helps his heart rate relax to normal. His manner of speaking vaguely reminds him of Mathias.

"Everything's good," he says. "I'm really sorry if you're busy. I have no reason to call you, but I just felt like it, so you wouldn't think I didn't remember you."

More chuckling. "You're something else. You don't get out that much, do you?"

"No…" he shamefully admits. He can feel his cheeks steaming up like he stepped into a sauna. The way Leon can analyze his voice over something as simple as a phone call makes him feel vulnerable.

"Thought so." A pause comes from Leon's end. "You know, like, you actually called at a pretty good time. I'm just about done where I'm at. Do you wanna, like, I dunno, go somewhere fun around five?"

His abrupt question catches him off guard. "What? You mean today? Really?"

"Yeah, why not? I've got some time to kill."

Emil does not. He has homework to finish and papers to write; not to mention he still has to study for exams. However, in spite of all of that, the enticing thought of being able to spend time with this person lures him over. This will be the first time they can spend real time together, to be real friends. If this is what friends do, then he thinks it will not matter if he goes out for one evening.

"Okay," he says. "Where are we going?"

"How about Retro?"

Retro is a district located in the eastern part of Holo, the city they live in. The district was constructed for the sole purpose of entertainment: arcades, stadiums, and restaurants litter the strips with neon lights and cubism-influenced architecture. It is also a popular attraction for young adults like Emil and Leon twenty-four hours a day, yet it also happens to be a place where Emil suspects someone will recognize Leon.

"Wh-What if someone recognizes you?" he asks just to be safe.

"Nah, they won't," he laughs it off. "Are you cool with that place, though?"

"Sure?" He means to answer it like a statement, but it comes out as a doubtful question.

"Sweet. Hey, since, like, it looks like you're far away, I'll send a pass your way, m'kay?"

Emil blinks. "A pass? Wait—How do you even know where I live?" But before he can get an answer, a different kind of ringing sounds out from his phone. It is the chime of an incoming message, an attachment to be exact. The attachment reads "Speed Pass." When he opens it, something begins to download, and, upon completion, an electronic image displays a picture of a high-speed railing pass used only for the wealthy and privileged.

"This is…"

"Didja get the attachment?" Leon suddenly startles him.

"Y-Yeah, I did," he confirms, pressing his ear back on the speaker.

"I'll be waiting by the blue station," he tells him before giving him a few quick parting words. "Oh, and one last thing: you haven't told anyone about us, have you?"

Emil understands. He does not want the media to invade his privacy if something catastrophic happens. This counts for his own safety, too. Who knows if some rabid fan will fester into a psychopathic rage and try to kill him out of jealousy? As far as he knows, the only people who know about his relationship on his end are Lukas and Mathias.

"Just my brother and his…friend," he says.

"Oh. Are they the talkative type?"

"Well…" Lukas will definitely not tell anyone. He barely speaks to Emil when they are alone. Mathias is a different story, but as long as Lukas is there to keep him under control, he does not think he will give anything out. "My brother's quiet like me, and his friend can control himself."

Leon does not reply for a while. When he does, his tone has changed into a more careful one. "Well, just make sure you don't tell too many people if you don't have to. Trying to watch out for press is bad enough as it is, you know."

"I can only imagine," he sighs.

"Whatev's. I'm leaving right now. Remember: blue station."

"Blue station," he repeats to confirm.

"Bingo. Later, then." Without another word, the phone call ends, and the room is quiet once again. Down below, the shouting softened into idle chitchat between Lukas and Mathias. Emil suspects they are talking about him or their days at work. Nothing usually changes around here.

That being said, things are about to change for Emil. He remembers going to Retro twice in his life: once when his parents were still alive and took him and his brother there to play in the amusement park, and once when his brother brought him there for his sixteenth birthday. While it was only three years since his last visit, it seems so long ago since feeling humbled by the dazzling displays of neon lights. As he gets dressed, his heartbeat begins to quick. Knowing that he is going somewhere with someone other than Lukas or Mathias for a change gets his blood rushing and his breath shortening. He cannot remember the last time he has felt so excited.

Before leaving, he makes sure he has everything necessary: his phone with the built-in speed pass, his wallet, and his pocket watch. Though the numbers have since stopped at their zeros, he feels a need to carry his lifeless pocket watch wherever he goes. It is almost like a heirloom or a good-luck charm, much like the cross-shaped hairpin his brother wears on the left side of his bangs at all times.

The only thing left to do is to tell his brother where he is going. At nineteen years of age, Emil is considered a fully responsible adult capable of making his own decisions. He technically does not have to abide by his brother's "my house, my rules" sort of thing since this is something beyond his control. He cannot say that Leon Wang is his soul mate, nor can he say that he is truly a real friend—yet—but fate brought them together, and he believes it will be fate that decides on where their relationship goes.

Mustering up his courage, he heads down the stairs, dressed in noticeably fashionable attire compared to his normal sweater and jeans. It is Mathias who immediately spots him and lets out a low whistle.

"Look who's all dressed up for an occasion," he grins. "Ya going somewhere, Ice?"

His cheeks flush pink at Mathias' remark. If he is acting like this in front of someone he knows, he wonders how he will react if a stranger or even Leon comments on his appearance.

Lukas then turns around, his normally dull eyes lighting up when he sees his little brother prepared to head out. "Where are you going?" he asks him.

"Out," he tells him. He does not want to play the lying game so he comes out as honest as possible. He thinks it will save him trouble from down the road. "I'm going to Retro with Leon."

Mathias stands up from the table, clearly excited by the news. "What?!" he cries. "You're going on a date already? That's great! Tell us all about it when you get b—_ack!_"

Lukas' fist is still lodged in Mathias' mouth when he speaks. "When did you contact him?"

The blood continues to circulate in Emil's cheeks. He must be bright scarlet by now. "Just now when you guys were talking. I thought three days was enough of a wait time. Besides, he said today was a good day."

His brother's eyes narrowed sending chills down his spine. "Tonight's a school night, Ice. Your job right now is to study, not to goof off and waste your time playing with that boy. Don't forget he's a celebrity. His priorities are different because he has money. He doesn't care if you have a twenty-page paper to write by tomorrow or not. Your education comes first."

"You're not the boss of me," Emil snaps at him. "And I don't have that much homework. It's just a short paper and some chemistry problems."

Lukas refuses to budge. "It's not just that, Ice. Retro is a dangerous district. The population of people going there are people who are inclined to mob Leon if his identity is made known. You can get into a lot of unwanted trouble if someone finds you hanging around that boy."

"He's done this thing before," he counters. "He even snuck out of his hotel to see me, remember?"

It is at this point when Mathias manages to get Lukas' fist out of his large mouth. "Blah!" he pants. "It's okay, Ice! Have fun out there! Live your life with your soul mate!"

Lukas clicks his tongue and then pulls on his companion's spiky hair. For something that manages to defy gravity, it is surprisingly soft when touched. "Don't encourage him, you buffoon. And what are you? His irresponsible father?"

"But wouldn't that make me your father, too?" Mathias chuckles while somehow managing to bear the tear-jerking pain.

"Don't make me sick!" Lukas snaps. In his distraction, he fails to notice his brother slipping away from the kitchen, popping on his shoes, and flying out the front door.

"I'll call you when I'm coming back!" he shouts back into the house before shutting the door and running as fast as he can towards the station.

"Dammit, Mathias!" Lukas roars and tears away from him, kicking chairs and pushing through walls to reach the door, but by the time he shoots out of the house, his brother is long gone.

* * *

_I'm sort of updating this story on a whim since I manage two accounts (one here and one on dA). If you would like to see more of this story updated frequently, reviews are greatly appreciated. _


	3. III

The rail systems in Holo connect the entire city in a ring-shaped track that circles each and every district. There are four tracks in all: two tracks for regular passengers moving clockwise and counter-clockwise called the Bolt Rails, and two tracks that take the same pathway reserved for those who pay a premium price for faster transportation and less passenger congestion. The faster ones are called the Lightning Rails; these are the rails Emil can permanently take to any part of the city to his heart's content, courtesy of Leon's generosity. Normally, when he does take the rail systems, he only goes out to Trip for some extra shopping, and during his travels, he was previously accustomed to taking the Bolt Rails like most regular passengers. That being said, the Bolt Rails are always crowded with civilians trying to get from one point to another; pickpocketing is also a common occurrence so most passengers tend to avoid bringing any valuables along if possible. Here on the Lightning Rails, fortunately, Emil no longer has to worry about that.

His first reaction when entering the Lightning Rail was one of complete awe. Instead of the torn tacky seats, gum-littered floors, and stuffy passengers pushing against one another, he is surprised to see how empty and clean it is. Fancy royal blue seats dot the carts on both sides with clean windows free from dust and other miscellaneous smudges and spits. There is a refreshingly pleasant smell of sharp yet subtle cologne and perfume stirred in with the crisp scent of newly tailored clothes. The only people sitting in the cart with him appear to be prominent and successful businessmen; they are dressed from head to toe in what he can only assume to be brand name tuxedos and suits made only from the finest materials offered on the market. Some people are checking their phones for any business updates, and others are quietly making personal calls to companies or representatives. One thing is for certain: none of them are keen on paying Emil any attention.

When the carts begin to move, he eagerly takes a seat beside the window facing the outer rim of the tracks and stares out through the glass. He feels somewhat out of place with the plush cushions and sleek floors, not to mention the businessmen who obviously can afford to pay for a pass on the Lightning Rails. But he pushes his doubts aside and enjoys the ride while he can. The motion is pleasantly smooth like sliding down a slope of compacted snow on a sled. The ride is also significantly faster as the buildings graze past his eyes like quick blurs of color and infrastructure; within a few seconds rather than the twenty minutes he expects the ride to take, the Lightning Rails are already at the first station of Wire, the market district.

"That was...fast," he softly chuckles to himself. He then wonders what the entire point of having such fancy carts even is. If the ride is going to be so short, why bother spending money making the seats so elaborate and posh?

Nevertheless, there is little room for complaints as the Lightning Rail sails to the next station in a blink of an eye. In three minutes flat, the rail has already covered the entirety of Trip's stops. The Retro district is next. And, as expected, the blue station comes into view within a dome-like tunnel with blue LED lights flashing through the curved walls. Frosted blue glass composes the main walls of the tunnel to keep out the rain when passengers board, and while it gives off a hypnotic blue lighting, Emil can still see his surroundings from his seat. With the sun setting over the city, there is a majestic orange glow reflecting into the electric city painted with assorted rainbow lights. The real fun begins at nighttime when the entire district comes alive with youth, games, and music galore. Such liveliness makes Emil wonder how he has managed to miss out on all the activities even after living a mere rail ride away.

"Retro district blue station," a cool female voice announces over the intercom. "We are now in Retro district blue station."

Emil wastes no time getting out and heading down the escalators to the ground floor. Since it is well into the evening, there are plenty of teenagers sporting glowing attire walking around the streets. Black lights strobe in a continuous on and off flicker that makes it appear as though anyone wearing bright colors is aglow. Emil's outfit does not have such an effect as he is wearing darker blue colors. With everyone else looking the same, however, he cannot imagine being able to find Leon in a place like this. A meek sense of fear wallows over him as he stretches his neck out hoping to spot the familiar face among the crowds of teenagers and young adults. Then again, since Leon is a celebrity, he does not expect to spot him so easily; if he can find him, practically anyone else can.

"Why didn't I ask for his phone number?" he mutters to himself as he continues his search. Sometimes he thinks he sees the familiar face of his significant other, but it always turns out to be another person who walks in the other direction. He has never paid attention to the side-bang cut and front-swept style until meeting Leon. Perhaps it caught on because of the teenage pop star.

This game of hide and seek continues for a while until he finally stops to rest on a nearby bench not too far from the station. He checks his phone's clock; the time reads half and hour after five. He has been searching for Leon for at least thirty whole minutes.

Suddenly, he starts to have doubts. What if it this is all a big joke? What if Leon never planned on coming to begin with? What if this is just his sick, twisted game he enjoys playing on people?

"No," he grumbles and pockets his phone. "What am I thinking? I've been hanging around Lukas for too long."

"Hanging around who now?" a voice asks causing Emil to jump from his spot.

"Gh!" he gasps and gets a hold of himself. "What the—?" The first thing he sees is a person wearing a hoodie in the shape of a panda, a black and white bear that went extinct after years of habitat destruction but still a popular icon among the youth. There are two large black eyes and two round black ears that physically stick out from the hood like a mascot. However, when he looks closer, he can recognize the confident smirk and the stylized side bangs of his supposed friend. Sure enough, as the person tilts his head up to meet his eyes, his amber irises sparkle in the fluorescent lights of the blue station.

"Yo," he grins. "Did I keep you waiting for too long?"

Emil's face falls into a frown when he checks his phone. "More or less. You're almost forty minutes late."

"Sorry," he apologizes, rubbing his neck from inside his hood. "I had to find a way to get here without getting caught." He notices Emil's unconvinced look. "Hey, cut me some slack. It's not easy sneaking out of the sixtieth floor of a hotel in Volt."

Hearing the believability in his tone, Emil realizes he is being too harsh on him for their first get-together and quickly forgives him. "No, it's alright," he says. "I get it." He changes the subject. "So, um, nice jacket."

Leon, in turn, scoffs and flicks back his front bangs. "It's one of my cousin's designs. It's good for this kind of thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he agrees. He would have never known it was Leon Wang underneath the hood if they were not talking together.

"So have you been out here before, Emil?"

This is the first time he has said his name since they met, Emil recalls. It sounds rather foreign coming from someone other than his brother or Mathias.

"You can call me 'Ice,'" he says.

Leon raises one of his thick eyebrows. Despite them being noticeably thick, they oddly fit the rest of his character. "Ice, you said?"

He nods. "It's a nickname I've always used. I'm used to being called that more than my real name."

"Ice," he tests it out. "Huh. That's a pretty cool nickname. Alright, I'll call you that, then. Eh, going back to what I was saying…Oh, yeah. Have you been out here in Retro much?"

"Not really," Emil says. "Only twice, and they were for family reasons."

Leon smirks. "Since when is Retro a place for _family_ outings?" He grabs onto Emil's sleeve and pulls him along. "Come on, Ice. I'll show you what _real _fun is."

Emil can hardly speak as he drags him towards the main streets. Though being a celebrity has its advantages, he hopes it also does not mean having an overinflated ego. Lukas warned him about the kinds of troubles celebrities get into when they become famous. Even a little attention is better than no attention at all.

But, he decides, since he is here, he might as well enjoy himself while he can. And with that, Leon leads him further down the holographic pathways towards the central plaza of the eternal game zone that is the Retro district.

* * *

Yao Wang, the chief executive officer of Wang Studio as well as Leon Wang's legal guardian, is in _absolute_ disarray. Earlier, Lien, his secretary and distant relative, had to adjourn the board meeting because of a call from the hotel saying his "ungrateful son" was nowhere to be found in the building. He completely went berserk when the news came to him. Due to being unable to function and snapping at the drop of a hat, nothing could get done, and the meeting ended shortly after starting.

"Who does he think he is trying to sneak out like that?!" he yells to no one in particular. Lien is not too far away, but she is keeping a considerable amount of space between them in case he detonates any further. Luckily, she managed to get in touch with Cheng just a few minutes ago. Considering he was conveniently visiting Volt for business, he should be here at any minute. She just hopes he arrives before Yao busts a vein.

Then, to her relief, she hears footsteps coming down the long hall towards the main office. A tall, well-groomed man with spectacles comes walking in with a quick pace to match the urgency of the situation. He briefly speaks with the secretary before giving her permission to leave for the day, and then, taking a deep breath, he slips into Yao's office and assess the scenario. Meanwhile, Yao continues on about how irresponsible of a boy Leon grew up to be. Angry curses of regrets follow his statement before a pair of hands come to rest on his shoulders.

"Uncle? Uncle, calm down. Please. The doctor said you need to watch your blood pressure. What do you think will happen if you let your temper get the better of you?"

"Off!" Yao snaps and tosses his hands away, but as soon as he sees who it is, his face relaxes into a calm composure. "Oh. It's you, Cheng. Did Lien call you?"

"She did," he sighs with a smile. "So I've heard Leon has left the hotel again?"

His uncle lashes out with a curse. "Can you believe that boy? This is the second time this week! The second time! The first time he did this, he missed a photo shoot with Glitter Magazine! And now this!" He violently points to the wall clock. "He has an interview at six! Five minutes away! This is unforgivable! He brings three generations of shame on our family!" He curses again. "How did he become so rebellious, Cheng? Was I not a good father?"

"Now, now, don't start thinking about that at this moment, Uncle," Cheng quickly answers. "I understand Leon can be a bit…difficult at times, but he means well. Don't forget that everything he does is in your image _for _your image. Why not let him spread his wings and have some fun every now and then? They say the wild beast runs the most rampant when he is chained and caged."

Yao clicks his tongue. "But Leon is no wild beast; he is my son—or at least, I thought he was—"

"You're letting things get out of hand, Uncle," his nephew cuts in. "Please think on this before you act. Leon has been working so hard for you. He's been doing movies and photo shoots and video after video. Think about all the strain it puts on him. If this gets out of hand, it will only get worse. Don't try to wedge a gap between you two."

To Cheng's relief, he can see his uncle beginning to relax. "Maybe you're right. I have been driving him in a corner lately. I just mean well. If he wants a nice lifestyle in the future, he should try to earn enough to afford it, shouldn't he?"

Cheng smiles and considers his dear cousin's point of view before answering. "You're right about working in the present to ensure a secure future, but if you work too hard now, when will that future ever come?"

"You and your words," Yao exasperatedly sighs and takes out his phone. Cheng notices him dialing Kiku's number and waiting for the line to connect. "Hello? Yes, Kiku, it's me. About Leon's interview…" He hisses through his teeth. "Yes, I know. Just tell them he's sick with the stomach flu or something. Schedule it for another time. Ye—Yes, yes. That's all. Bye."

When he hangs up, he looks back at Cheng. "Well, since tonight's meeting ended early, why don't I treat you out, Cheng? It's been awhile since I've seen you."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly," he politely refuses with a businesslike smile. Then again, to anyone who knows him well, he is always someone who tries to decline others' free offerings with a polite refusal.

"We're going out, and that's final," Yao insists. "There is a new restaurant that opened down the street, and they're supposed to have good custard tarts 'to die for'—though I'd imagine none will ever be as good as the ones you make."

Cheng chuckles. "You give me too much credit, Uncle."

"Sometimes I don't think I give you enough with the way you get Leon to listen to you. You need to teach me how you do that." He is already heading towards the elevator with his nephew following closely behind. "He never listens to anything I say nowadays. It's like he suddenly grew up and is freeloading off his father."

"That's not it at all," Cheng assures him. "He's at that age where he's trying to find out if stardom is what he wants in life." He lets out a brief sigh as he remembers what his cousin told him over the phone roughly three days ago. "Just give him some time. I'm sure he'll come to know what his responsibilities are."

"I'll think about it over dinner," Yao says and gets into his personalized elevator. There are seven main elevators located within Wang Studio; six of them are for the rest of the employees, and the seventh one, by using a specially coded program on an electronic device, is reserved for family and close-knit employees. Yao and Cheng take this elevator down to the ground floor, moving from the topic of Leon's future and career to what sorts of dishes they plan to order at the new restaurant.

* * *

Emil recognizes the place they are going to. It is the Highway Fairgrounds, an amusement park famous for its high-speed roller coasters and seemingly endless midway. When he came here as a child, his parents watched him and his brother play countless amounts of little games to compete for prizes. One of the prizes he won happened to be a stuffed puffin, a curious black and white bird that has long gone extinct after humans overfished the polar oceans dry. He believes if he looks around in his closet, he will be able to find the puffin stashed alongside many of his other childhood belongings.

Interestingly enough, it appears Leon is leading him exactly towards the places he remembers. The duck bobbing pool is exactly where he remembers it to be, and the block-throwing stall is right next to the bathrooms like before. When they stop, they are in front of a shooting booth where players shoot holograms with an electronic laser gun for a prize.

"A shooting booth?" he questions with a raised eyebrow as his companion takes out what appears to be a previously registered playing card.

"We need to get you something before we go," he says when the game starts up and aims his gun at a computer-generated monster. The first monster bursts into pixelated green bits when he fires his first shot. "Betcha I can mow down the entire horde in a perfect run—no wasted shots."

Emil cannot help chuckling. Pop star or not, it does not mean his skills are as impressive as the special effects in his movies. "Alright. I'll bite."

His previous doubts suddenly vanish with a devious smirk from Leon. His eyes narrow into thin golden slits as he takes aim and fires another shot. Like before, the monster hologram obliterates into electronic smithereens. A wave of monsters pops up, dancing on the screen with childlike animations until Leon blows them away without batting an eyelash.

"Ha! Look at that!" Leon laughs when he continues to hit monster after monster. Emil's eyes wander to the scoreboard keeping track of his shots and monsters killed. Both match up identically: seventeen shots taken and seventeen monsters defeated. That number only continues to climb. Eighteen, nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty three, twenty-four—

"Last one," Emil hears him smirk right before pulling back on the trigger and letting the last shot fly.

A jingle of old-school bit-style music plays in the background, complimenting the cheap fireworks and blinking "Congratulations!" flashing on the screen. When the song finishes, a prize screen pops up displaying a variety of stuffed toys and various hats. Leon chooses a hat that looks like a black devilish monster with yellow eyes and waits for his prize to pop out of the chute. When it comes out, he starts spinning it on his finger from the inside like a flat top, taunting Emil for losing the bet.

"You lose," he snickers.

Emil groans and presses his lips together. "Okay? What happens now?"

"You've gotta wear this for the entire night," he says and pulls it onto his head. Despite Emil's protests, he continues to stare at him until he calms down—minus the pink color rushing to his cheeks. "Don't get mad. I was going to make you wear it whether I won or not."

"Wh-What are you looking at?" he snaps, upset by the fact that the outcome was going to be the same. "This isn't funny. Just because I lost—"

"You look nice," he smirks tripping up Emil's tongue. "Besides, it's in case there are, like, weird stalkers around. We don't want them knowing what you look like." Without permission, his hand moves to his hair and fingers a strand until Emil slaps him away.

"Quit it!" he growls, though the threat is no more intimidating than that of an angry kitten.

"Cute," he chuckles earning yet another rush of blood to Emil's cheeks and even more hot fumes of air flaring from his nostrils. "I still can't believe that's your natural color. You ever think about modeling?"

The thought is so absurd that Emil can barely register words. The syllables struggle to toll off his tongue or process in his mind. Lukas will kill him before something like that ever happens. By the time he gets his mouth to work, Leon is already taking him to another area of the part. "W-Wait! You weren't serious about the whole modeling thing, were you?"

Leon then turns to him with a deadpan look, his golden eyes piercing through his sweeping bangs. "And what if I was?"

"I…" He furiously shakes his head. "I would say 'no!' My brother will kill me before he sees me modeling!"

To his frustration, this only makes the pop star laugh. "You sure you're nineteen, Ice?"

"Yes!" he snaps. "In fact, I found out I'm two weeks older than you!"

This finally gets a different reaction out of the cocky bastard. "Says who?"

"Your birthday's on July 1st," he says. "Mine's on June 17th. That makes me older than you."

"Oh." He licks his lips and blows some hair out of his eyes. "So it does. But that's fine, too, I suppose."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we're moving to our next stop," he tells him without addressing the real context of Emil's question.

Before Emil can throw a protest his way, they are already off to their next destination. "Where are we even going?" he asks in an impatient tone. He wishes he had an idea of where they are even heading before going to those destinations. As they continue walking, he makes the assumption that they are not going to spend the rest of the night in the midway. They must be going to another section of Retro.

"I'm totally starving," Leon suddenly says. "What about you?"

Caught by surprise, Emil bashfully lowers his head to the ground. He does not have to worry about which direction they are traveling in since Leon is constantly leading the way. Truth be told, he _is_ just the tiniest bit hungry. It feels like an eternity since he last ate Mathias' bread, and he sees no harm in admitting he wants something to eat.

"Just a bit," he vaguely answers and feels a sharp tug on his arm. "Ngh…! Can you not pull so hard?"

"I'm trying to make sure you don't get lost," Leon innocently replies.

"Yeah, but if you're going to do that, hold onto something other than my sleeve," he snaps. "You're going to tear it."

"Ahh," Leon pronounces with a gleam in his eyes. "I see what you mean. You wanna, like, hold hands with me?"

"No!" he cries a little too loud. He can feel some eyes and ears drawing to him, though it does not take long for the pedestrians' interests to move elsewhere. "You don't have to hold onto me at all. Period. I can follow you."

Leon gives it some thought before finally consenting. "Alright, but if it gets too crowded, I'm taking your sleeve again."

Emil rolls his eyes. "Okay, _Mother_."

Leon just laughs. All the while, the hat he won for Emil remains concealing his silvery white hair.

* * *

Leon ends up taking Emil to a place with a bright blue neon sign with a minimalist design called "Teal." He tells him all of the restaurants in Retro are named after colors.

"As if I don't know that already," Emil grumbles while passing through the door.

Upon stepping inside, instead of waiting to be seated like the rest of the diners standing in a queuing line, Leon walks up to the maître d' and whispers something into his ear. Moments later, someone escorts them to a separate room far from the main dining area. They take an automated pathway that runs through an underwater tunnel complete with what appears to be a built-in aquarium. Beyond the colorful schools of fish and towering beds of coral, Emil can see the regular diners on the other side of the glass. He wonders how often people get the privilege of going through this tunnel.

His answer is soon given when the end of the tunnel opens up to a large dome-shaped room consisting of a single table with a large round bench surrounded on all sides by placid sharks, nonchalant rays, and clustered, shimmering schools of what appear to be anchovies.

"Are those real?" he wonders aloud, his head craning to the aquatic life forms above after he takes a seat across from Leon.

"Nah," he laughs. "The real ones are probably in some government-reinforced research facility or whatever."

Emil makes a face. "How do you know that?"

"I did a mov—oops. I mean, I 'heard about it' when I was out somewhere in the coast. One of the crew members out there said nowadays, all the big fish are locked up in these huge fisheries because scientists are trying to prevent them from getting overfished in the wild."

"Oh." He looks up again. "But they look like the real things. I've never seen something like this before. The only time I ever see things this stuff is in history shows about nature."

"Yeah, I'm pretty much the same," Leon smiles in a far off way. "My cousin told me that they use, like, a bunch of holograms that can test the currents in the water and bounce lights off the water molecules. That's what tricks our eyes into thinking we're seeing an image much like how all holograms work. Not just that, but the beams of light are supposed to be so small that the machines using them are invisible to the naked eye. Nanotechnology and the like."

Emil is silent as Leon continues on with his explanation. He is surprised to hear how well-learnt this person is despite never seeming to have time to himself. If this is how he spends his spare time—aside from practicing at the shooting gallery and sneaking out—he thinks it will not be too hard to maintain a relationship with him.

"But enough about that," he suddenly says, with a yawn; it is as though the topic bores him. "I wanna know more about you."

His genuine words make his face steam. In the place of a fan, he suspects he should be extremely flattered that Leon Wang wants to know about him. Such an opportunity does not occur on a regular basis. It is, as some people call it, fate.

"Um…" His voice continues to trail off during their conversation. "I don't know...There's not that much to talk about. What do you want to know?"

Leon starts off with, "How's about telling me why you've been hiding under a rock all this time?"

"What?"

"Like, you told me that one day you've never heard about me before. What's up with that?"

Emil shrugs. There is not much to say about how he never heard of him. "I just never bothered learning about those things, I guess," he replies in grumbles; he knows he sounds like a spoiled and shy child, but it is rare for him to speak with anyone other than Lukas and Mathias these days. Considering Leon Wang is the one listening to him makes the experience all the more unnerving. "I don't watch shows that much, and I don't really surf on the net. I just study."

"Wow," Leon stretches out the word in a long syllable. "What a drag." He falls silent when he breezes through the provided menu looking for anything interesting to eat. When he is finished, he signals the waiter over and orders something in a foreign language. He also points to Emil and continues to speak in an unknown tongue until the waiter disappears into the kitchen connected by another tunnel.

Emil is utterly confused when he finishes. "What was that just now?"

"What was what? You don't like what I'm getting?"

Eyebrows creased, Emil looks down at his menu that he has not so much as glanced at when they first came here. To his bewilderment, the entire menu is written with an alien-like script of characters and squiggles.

"You ordered for both of us?" he realizes.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

"U-Uh…"

"You obviously can't speak Jiang*. Might as well save you the trouble, right?"

"Oh." He studies the characters even further. "This is Jiang? I've never seen it before."

Instead of making a remark, Leon sweeps his hand in a circular gesture to the menu. That is all he needs to do to get the message across. Emil makes a disgruntled noise in his throat that catches Leon's amusement.

"Pfft. You're cute when you get mad."

"Shut up," he grunts.

"So, like, anyway," Leon returns to the conversation as if the fact that Emil did not recognize Jiang never existed, "why's your nickname 'Ice?'"

Emil immediately sinks into his seat until everything below his eyes are under the table. "Do you really need to know?"

"Why? Is that a problem?"

"Maybe," he vaguely responds.

"If it's funny, I won't laugh."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he insists.

"Nope. I don't trust you."

Instead of dropping it, Leon suddenly scoots over to where Emil is sitting and boldly reaches for his phone that is wedged into his back pocket. Of course, the inconsiderate move causes him to yelp and spring up from his seat, crashing his knees into the bottom of the table and nearly knocking over their glasses of water.

"What the heck?!" he yells when Leon takes his phone out. "What's your problem?! And—! Give me back my phone!" All the while as he is unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his phone, Leon's attention is glued onto the screen. Somewhere in the middle of the struggle, he takes out his own phone and punches buttons with incredible dexterity. Angry at how smug he is getting, Emil launches himself at Leon like a cat might a mouse and tackles him onto his back.

"Give me that!" he snaps and snatches back his phone with Leon wearing an irritable smirk on his lips. With his phone safely back in his hands, he clicks the screen on and rummages through his applications for any signs of malware. "What did you do?"

"Just a little something," Leon answers in a mockingly innocent voice.

"Liar," he snarls. "You did something big, didn't you?"

"Who knows?" His inability to give a shit starts to take its toll on Emil. Finally, after searching through his phone's history, he sees that Leon somehow managed to crack into his credit account. His heart nearly skips a beat when he sees a transaction was made during their struggle, expecting his account to be completely empty. However, when he sees the numbers, instead of red numbers signifying a loss in his savings, he sees green numbers—_large _green numbers.

"What the...?" His hands are shaking. He has never seen such a high number in his statements before. There are more zeros than there should be. Just what did Leon do?

Leon, catching the stunned expression on his face, moves over and slings his arm around his shoulders. "You still mad at me?" he grins.

"You…" It is not just Emil's hands that are shaking. His voice beings to shake as well. "You p-put one hundred…"

"A hundred thousand heta**," he finishes for him without faltering or blinking an eye. "Just think of that as a little gift for me. But…!" In a crude gesture, he places a finger in the middle of Emil's forehead. If it was not because he was so stunned, he might have actually considered snapping his teeth at him. "…Because of how nice I was to you, you have to be nice to me, now."

"Wha…?" Emil's mouth is so dry he can hardly speak.

"You owe me a story…_Ice._"

Realizing there is no way to worm his way out of this one, he lets out a deep sigh and repositions himself on the plush bench. "Fine. But you promised you wouldn't laugh."

"I sure did," he says.

Emil brings one knee to his chest and looks at his phone. While telling his story, he notices how many missed calls he has from Lukas. His phone must still be on silent from commuting to his college classes.

"When I was little, my parents would always buy me ice cream if I sang this little song I made up." He catches an anticipating look in Leon's eyes. "I am _not_ going to sing it for you."

"Come on," he whines disturbingly out of character. "I gave you a hundred thousand heta, Ice."

"No," he refuses, but there is little he can say in defense. Money does make the world go round. "Rrggh. You promised—"

"I won't laugh," Leon cuts him off. "I promise."

Emil exhales and holds his breath. He cannot even remember the last time he sang the ice cream song. Considering it was when he was still a child, it must have been several years ago. Even so, the words and melody come back to him as though it were only yesterday.

"Ice…" he begins, but he quickly shakes his head and yanks his hat over his eyes. "I can't do it. I can't. You're going to laugh. I know you will."

"No, no. Come on, Ice," Leon stops him. "Look at my face. Do I look like I'm going to laugh?"

Sure enough, when Emil looks at him, his face is solemn like he just came back from a funeral. The critiques about his acting skills certainly do not lie.

"Fine," he sighs and starts over. The entire time, his head is dizzy with suppressed oxygen and a spike in his heart rate. It is as though he will burst from the inside out due to embarrassment, but Leon is still waiting for him to sing the song.

"Okay," he breathes. "Here I go:

_Ice cream, 'sicles, gum drops, too. _

_Here is what I bought for you:_

_A treat so cold, your tongue turns blue…_

_B-BecauseIloveyoumyhunkypoo!_"

Leon's face is a blank slate when he finishes the song, much to Emil's amazement. Part of him wants to believe he is able to keep his emotions in check, but another part of him believes he is only staring off into space because he is trying to decipher the last line. Sure enough…

"Wait. What was that last line?"

Emil is pulling on his hat so hard that the cheap stitching is threatening to tear at the seams. "Please don't make me say it again."

"One hundred thousand heta~"

"Gah! Because I love you my…my hunky poo!"

It is then that Leon cracks. It begins with a simple blink, something one might register as trying to moisturize one's eyeballs, but in his case, it is only the beginning. He can feel an unusual sensation in his lips, like little fingers yanking on the corners of his mouth or fishhooks landing a catch. The lines pull, and for a fraction of a second, he nearly gives in. But he promised. He told Emil he would not laugh. So, with every fiber in his body, he restrains himself and recalls every possible bad thing in his memories: his family, his job, the pressure…

But he fails to cover up the bubble of gas rising to the surface. His diaphragm suppressed, his lungs at minimum capacity, he traps it just up to his throat before it escapes. Unfortunately, the sheer look of horror and genuine embarrassment on Emil's face snaps the final thread in his mental stability, and he releases—

_Smack!_

His last resort. He slaps his palm over his mouth. It is all he can do now to prevent himself from uttering a sound. However, Emil sees that he is failing to keep his promise.

"I knew it!" he bursts out, his once fair skin now flushed a crimson pink hue. "You idiot! I knew you would laugh!"

Leon is dying. He is on the brink of passing out from his lack of oxygen. Little hiccups of air pop in and out through his nostrils in a futile attempt to escape. He will not have any of it. He has to keep his promise.

Emil suddenly stops when he sees the amount of stress the poor guy is going through in order to hold it on. His face is turning dark red, and his golden eyes are glistening with what look like tears. Even his nose is starting to run. With his cheeks also puffing from struggling to breath, Emil thinks he looks like a puffy-eyed goldfish suffering from an asthma attack.

"Hnnh…Heh heh. Ha ha ha. Ah ha ha ha!"

When their food arrives, they are still laughing, tears streaming from their eyes and jaws aching. Emil has never laughed so hard before. For the first time in his life, he feels alive.

* * *

_*Jiang is the Chinese word for "talk." It is a fictional language in this story. _

_**Currency in this AU. The value is roughly equivalent to today's USD to fit the bulk demographics of my readers. _


	4. IV

Dinner consisted of roasted duck skin with white rice, steamed dumplings with seasoned soy sauce, plates of fried noodles, and sticky rice and peanuts and meats wrapped with banana leaves. Emil cannot remember the last time he has seen so many different kinds of foods, let alone any type of Jiang cuisine. The most he usually eats at home is a light meal of fish, potatoes, and bread on the side; the vegetables change day by day. Leon told him it was only a light snack before continuing on with the rest of their night, but Emil quickly filled his stomach to the point of collapsing. From there, every bite he attempted to take became forced; the satisfactory level dropped to zero until he refused to pick up his fork.

Leon finally takes notices of his gradual decline in eating speed when dessert comes to the cleared table. "You feeling okay?" he asks. There is a glass in his hand, and from the bottle he brought earlier, Emil suspects it is some form of alcohol. The drinking age in this country is at eighteen years of age, and while Mathias cannot be happier to have a different drinking partner, Lukas refuses to let Emil taste alcohol until he turns twenty-one.

"I can't eat another bite," Emil groans, his mouth twitching at the sides like he is ready to vomit. Perhaps it was the duck, he thinks.

"No one's forcing you," Leon casually says.

Emil furrows his eyebrows. "Then why'd you make a big deal out of eating so much, yourself?"

"I just know how to eat," he laughs it off. Emil wishes he can eat anything without having to worry about his appearance, though he suspects Leon has an intense workout routine to keep his body metabolizing at its high rate.

Stomach issues aside, Leon asks Emil if he wants to try some of the light orange gelatinous treat.

"What is it?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Mango pudding. It's good. You should try it. Man, what do they feed you at home, Ice?"

"Not this, that's for sure," he frowns and gingerly takes a small spoonful; it is all his stomach can manage at this point. When it passes through his mouth, he can taste the subtle milky texture of the pudding melting on his tongue. The pudding is not too sweet nor is it too light. He has never tried mango before, but he suspects this restaurant has accuracy with its culinary abilities.

Noticing his relaxed eyes and lack of grimacing from earlier, Leon cracks a smile. "It's good, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he nods, but he does not take another helping in case he gets sick later. While he is waiting for Leon to finish, his phone vibrates in the seat of his back pocket; he turned it to its vibration mode earlier in case someone wants to contact him.

Leon looks up from his spoon. "Someone calling?"

"Yeah…" he sighs and sees it is none other than Lukas. "I have to take this call." He looks around for somewhere private to talk, but there is only the isolated dome and a small tunnel leading outside. It is actually better for him to take the call right where he is standing. "Sorry," he quickly apologizes and answers the phone. "Hello? Lukas?" His blood runs cold when he hears the soft voice speaking like a creeping shadow into his ear.

"This is the _seventeenth _time I've tried to get ahold of you," he breathes into the phone. "Where _are _you, Emil Steilsson."

"Uh-oh," Emil silently mouths. His brother only uses his full name when he is absolutely furious. Unlike most people, however, when his brother gets angry, he seethes like a hissing kettle under pressure, quite the opposite of downright exploding like a bombshell. "Um…" He looks over at Leon who is finished eating at this point. The waiter already presented him with the bill earlier. All there is to do now is to wait for Emil to finish before they can leave. "…I just got done eating."

"Where?" his brother inquires.

"Teal," he answers.

"_Teal?_" Lukas echoes it in such a manner that the name is something gross. "That's supposed to be an extension of a bar. What are you doing there?"

Realizing his brother's suspicions are getting out of hand, Emil quickly assures him. "We're just eating! Honest! It's a really nice place, too. I can take some pictures if you'd like—"

"No photographs, please," the waiter from afar tells him. "It disrupts the nanos."

"Oh." Emil is crestfallen. "Sorry. The waiter said I can't take pictures because it messes with the nanocameras."

"Forget that. Don't you have homework to do? It's almost eight, little brother. I need to leave for work early tomorrow, which means I have to sleep early. You're not going to make me stay up waiting for you, are you?"

He scrunches his face. "You don't have to wait for me to come home. I'll be back. Promise." He pauses to scratch his forehead. Having the hat on proves to be distractingly stuffy. "I don't know what we're going to be doing, but I think we're almost finished up here."

His brother lets out a long sigh over the phone and falls silent. After his tongue clicks, he finally says, "Alright. I'll give you until nine thirty to come back, but that's final."

"Nine thirty?" Emil starts. "But that's barely enough time to—!"

"Nine thirty," he repeats. "That's final."

He opens his mouth to protest, but the call disconnects. His brother hung up.

Cursing, he falls back down on the bench and buries his face into his hands. "My brother's such a jerk…"

Leon laughs. "You think that's bad? You don't know my old man."

Emil looks up from his hands and blinks. "You mean Ya—?" But he clamps his mouth shut in case the waiter gets suspicious. Now that he thinks about it, he wonders why none of the waiting staff is reacting. If he paid using credit, they should know his name, should they not?

However, Leon cuts him off when he replies to his question. "The very guy." He gazes off into the distance. "He's the reason why I'm stuck in this business. It's not bad, but…it gets boring after a while, you know?"

Emil cannot lie and pretend he empathizes with him. "I don't know. The only problem I have is my brother always worrying about me, but that's about it. How do you do it, then?"

"Do what?"

"Just…handling all the pressure and calls. Even when you're here, you still have to worry about someone, right?"

All of a sudden, Leon scoots next to him and pulls out his phone with a childlike smile beaming on his face. It is rather uncomfortable the way he gets so close without a second's thought.

"Wanna see a magic trick, Ice?" he asks, his smile still stuck in place.

"Huh?" He is confused but curious, nevertheless. "What kind?"

"I can make all my problems go away whenever I want to. Wanna see how?"

"Uh…" He decides to go along with it. "Sure."

"Watch." Then, Leon clicks on his phone, holds down the lock screen button, and waits as the phone starts to power off. After that, he holds the blank phone out to Emil. "See? All gone. Now I don't have to worry about my family tracking me or about anyone calling me. It's that easy."

Emil is at a loss for words.

"Are you ready to go?"

He only nods. This time, instead of pulling on his sleeve, Leon takes his hand and leaves through the same tunnel they entered.

When they make it outside, the entire sky is flooded with assorted lights and strobes floating on signs or flashing on stylized outfits. It is hard to imagine that Retro is only a little flicker compared to the spotlight that is Neon, the district of gambling and the adults' paradise. Here, posters hover on holograms lazily passing through the alleys advertising food, websites, and even movies. Some of the movies that flash by Emil's eyes expose a large picture of none other than the person leading him down Retro.

"Hey," he calls to the front, "where are we going?"

"Somewhere far away," he vaguely answers and continues to walk. He eventually leads Emil to a familiar place, Antenna Tower, one of Holo's tallest infrastructures. He came here with his family back when he was but a small child; when he and his family rode up the elevator, he found the lights to be like a sea of tasty sugar stars, something that made his brother laugh.

There is a line of people waiting to go up and into the tower; however, like at Teal, Leon casually strolls up to the vendor in the front, exchanges a few words, and waits about a minute before someone escorts them to the other side of the tower.

"What's going on?" Emil asks.

"We're going to take the back door up," Leon grins. Sure enough, the person escorting them shows them to another elevator, only this one is significantly fancier than the one Emil took as a child. There are clean glass doors on three sides, and sleek faux leather seats for sitting on during the ride. With an odd feeling, Emil cautiously steps into the elevator with Leon and settles in a seat when the elevator doors shut.

Suddenly, his stomach sinks to the ground when the floor gives way. The ground floor vanishes with the elevator's ascent. The safety stairs in the middle fly past his eyes. All the while, the sea of diamonds returns to him. The sinking feeling in his stomach soon goes away, enough so that he can manage to face the glass and look down at Retro below. It looks like a glowing ocean at this height, he thinks. He feels on top of the world again.

"This isn't too bad," Leon's voice barely reaches him.

Emil agrees. "It's beautiful." His trance is cut short when his companion snickers.

"No, I wasn't talking about the view," he chuckles. "I meant us."

From the corner of Emil's eyes, he can sense Leon looking straight at him. Eyebrows poised, he gives him a glance. "And what about us?"

Leon lets out a heavy sigh and lies on his back. Something flashes in his hand against the dim lighting. When Emil looks closer, he recognizes the flat, round shape of his crystal-engraved pocket watch. Even he keeps it with him after its countdown stopped.

"I thought it was weird how you weren't a fan of mine. Like, I was expecting someone who'd just know all about me and worshipped me or something."

Emil makes a face. "That wouldn't be any better than having a god pairing up with his believer."

"Don't know about that, but I like things how it is now," the celebrity smirks with his usual expression. "Maybe I'm tired of people knowing me because of what they see. The people who know the real me can't give a shit—Ah. No, I shouldn't say that. There's one guy."

"Who?"

"My cousin," he smiles. This time, his smile is different; it has a warm serenity to it that captures Emil's attention. "He's the only one I've told about you. He also knows about our watches stopping. I'll definitely introduce you to him one day. He's really cool."

In Emil's head, he is picturing someone around his age with the same contemptuous smirk on his face. He expects him to be someone who dresses like a fashionable trendsetter or an outgoing social butterfly; those are the only types of people he suspects appeal to Leon's tastes. He must be loaded with heta, too.

Suddenly, Leon starts to laugh. "Would you find it weird if I, like, told you I don't have too many friends, myself?"

"Uh…" He does not know how to respond. He always thought Leon would be someone with several friends since he knows how to talk and get around without anyone's help. Plus he is a celebrity. What sort of celebrity does not have any friends? This must be one of the downsides to being popular. He is constantly trying to appease to so many people that he does not have time to appease to anyone close to him. In such a way, Emil feels like he is the opposite; all his life he appeased only to himself after believing there would be someone to complete his life. No one else would have to matter. Leon must have felt just as awful when he saw who his significant other was supposed to be. The bonds they might share as friends will never surmount to what they would have felt in an intimate relationship between soul mates.

"I don't think it's weird," Emil says. Leon blinks. "If I was the same, I think I'd be so caught up with everything around me that I'd forget about the ones important to me." He thinks back to his brother who is nearly the same as him. His case with his other is different, but not on such a level that they cannot relate. They are all stuck in funny cases. It would almost be amusing if it were not so depressing.

Emil looks over at Leon who is staring intently at him. His heartbeat quickens, and his eyelids flutter when those golden eyes look at him. He does not feel worthy of his attention. He is a nobody. Leon is a famous international celebrity.

"What's up?" Leon suddenly catches him by surprise.

Blushing, Emil curls his knees into his chest. "I-It's not weird if I say I'm glad we met, is it?"

His friend continues to stare, only this time, there is a different kind of look in his eyes, one that loses Emil in their mystifying amber pools. They gaze into each other's irises for a considerable amount of time before the soft _ding_ of the elevator chime signals they have reached the top.

"We're here," Leon says and gets to his feet. He goes first and guides Emil to the edge. While walking, Emil notices that the entire place is empty. As if reading his mind, Leon tells him, "There's a separate floor connecting to the elevator we took. The public one is one floor below us, if you can believe that."

Emil breathes when he comes to the edge. Though the tower is completely secure, he cannot shake the sinking feeling in his stomach from when the elevator first started its ascent. It must be a long way to the bottom.

"How do you know about these things?" he asks. "You knew about Teal having a private room and Antenna Tower having an extra floor. Where do you get the time to find about this stuff?"

"Oh, that? It's just from when my old man and my cousin would take me places—mostly my cousin, though. My old man never had time for me." He shifts the focus of the conversation to Emil. "What about you? Seems like you've been here before."

Emil nods, his eyes fixed on the streets. He can see the Lightning and Bolt Rails from here. They continue to expand out into a circle around Holo.

"I came here during the one time we were here as a family," he tells him.

"Oh." Leon tosses his bangs to the side. "You said you have a brother, right?"

He nods. "Older. His name is Lukas." At the mention of his name, he wonders if it was a good idea to shut off his phone back at the restaurant. "My brother is something of a…Let's just say he's the overprotective type."

Leon's eyebrows arch. "Really?" His tone is flat, but it does not conceal his surprise. "I'm surprised he even allowed you to come here. And you told me you told him about us?"

"Yep. He—" Emil quickly checks his phone for the time only to see that the screen is black. He curses. "What time is it?"

"Why should it matter?"

"I'm supposed to be home at nine thirty."

His companion raises an eyebrow. "From the conversation I overheard, I thought you weren't going to listen to your brother."

"Yeah, but I…" He sighs. "I have school tomorrow. Lukas also has work. I know him. He won't go to sleep until I come home. I'm guessing if I don't come back around ten, he'll even call the police."

"Yeesh. You weren't kidding about the overprotective thing," Leon grimaces. "Does he have a…?"

"A watch?" Emil guesses. Leon nods. "Yeah. His numbers hit their zeros a long time ago. I think he was ten when it happened."

Leon's eyes grow as wide as eggs, and his jaw drops open. "Whoa, _ten? _What kind of broad did he get hooked up with to stay so clingy with you?"

"Th-That's the thing…He's sort of a special case." Emil presses his lips together. "I think it would be better if I just introduced you to them one day. That's fine, isn't it?"

"Visiting your brother, his soul mate, _and _your parents?" Leon laughs. "That's, like, kind of a lot to take in for one visit doncha think?" He abruptly stops when Emil looks away with a painful expression. His eyes have lost their light. When he manages to speak, it is as if it hurts just to speak.

"You won't be meeting my parents," he quietly murmurs. "My parents died eight years ago."

Leon freezes. For someone who never knew his biological parents, he cannot bring himself to relate on an intimate level. All he can do is quietly apologize and offer his condolences.

"No, it's fine," Emil forces a trembling smile. "It's not like it was your fault. I just thought I should tell you before, well, the timing gets bad."

"Still…" He runs his hand through his bangs and lets out a wistful sigh. "That's pretty deep. I'm sure you know this, but I never knew who my real parents were." He scoffs. "They're probably rolling in their graves for seeing what kind of guy their son turned out to be, a singing an' acting sensation. Eye candy to the masses but completely invisible with a panda hoodie."

Somehow, that strikes Emil as funny, and he cracks a smile.

Leon returns the smile and opens his mouth to say something when a pop song blasts out of nowhere. Both of them flinch at the sudden spike in the noise level, and Emil curses.

"I thought you turned your phone off!" he yelps.

"My bad," Leon sheepishly grimaces. "I have a spare only for emergencies. This one I've gotta take. Hold on." He pulls out his extra phone and answers it without so much as glancing at the name of his contact. "Yo, what's up?"

Unknown to Emil's ears, it is none other than Leon's cousin, Cheng Wang, on the phone. His tone is always polite, though anyone who knows him well can hear the urgency in his voice.

"Leon, where are you right now?" he asks. "Yao has been very worried about you. Kiku had to reschedule everything because you weren't answering his calls."

"Oops." Leon sticks his tongue out. "I'm out with Ice right now."

A pause. "Ice?" Cheng repeats.

"Shit, I meant Emil. Ice is his nickname."

He can picture his cousin giving him a blank stare with a smile stuck like place like someone stitched the corners of his lips. "That's nice, Leon, but in all seriousness, I think you should go back to your hotel. The doctors said Yao has to watch his blood pressure, but there's only so much he can do when he doesn't know how to contact you."

Leon makes a raspberry sound. "It's his fault he's not getting with the times. I knew how to hack his bank account before he knew how to use a brace—Ugh, never mind. Fine. I'll come back. Just need to do some things real quick."

"Please don't be too long, Leon. I'm really sorry. I know this is important to you."

"No, I'm the asshole here," he insists. Cheng makes it difficult to get angry. "I'll call you when I'm done, okay?"

"That would be nice. Thank you, Leon. And…try not to use that kind of language."

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I'll try. Bye, then."

"Goodbye, Leon."

When he hangs up, he debriefs the situation to Emil. "That was my cousin just now. He said my old man's going nuts because I snuck out."

"Oh," Emil responds.

Leon does not look too thrilled about the situation. "Seems like both our families want us home, huh?" Emil nods. "I wanted to show you some other places, but you're right about it being a school night. This place isn't half as crowded as it should be. Kind of a waste when it's not as happening."

Emil cannot bring himself to fathom how Retro should look during its peak busy days. It already feels so congested.

"Mm, might as well go back down, then," the disappointed celebrity sighs. "But I had fun. It was nice getting away from hearing my old man's nagging."

"Same for my brother," Emil chuckles. "Thank you for putting up with me, Leon, and…for being my friend."

He gets an interesting reaction out of the young singing and acting sensation. Leon catches himself by covering his mouth with his hand and lowering his head as if he is laughing. Emil thinks he said something wrong until he snaps back to his normal stoic self.

"It's nothing," he smiles and presses the ground floor button on the elevator. While they are making their way down, the two continue to talk about personal bits in their lives.

"What's it like living in Volt?" Emil asks. Volt is the high-end district that can only be accessed through a special registration. The public is welcome to travel to the stations located throughout Volt, but they are forbidden from passing over the fences separating privileged from the mundane. The only instances where ordinary civilians are allowed to pass through Volt are if local residents previously register their names under their own.

"It's just what it is," Leon shrugs. "People like you an me. They just wear expensive cloths and talk like hot shots. They're really not, though. Here's a little secret: most of them just sit on their fat asses all day and shit their mouths."

Emil chuckles.

"So what about you?" he asks him in turn. "Where do you live? Not Retro, obviously."

"I live in Circuit. It's not too far from Circuit University."

Leon raises his eyebrows with a smug look. "Oh, so you're a bookworm type. That explains the hiding under the rock thing."

Emil scowls. "I'm not a bookworm, and I'm trying to study hard because there's no other way to support myself." He lets out a deep breath and folds his hands over his lap. "My brother is currently working as a pharmaceutical assistant. He's not making much right now, but once he gets his license, he can start working in his own clinic to support us. It's tough right now because, well, my parents died right after my brother was legally old enough to take care of me. Because of that, we really didn't get any financial support from the government. I'm studying medicine, too, if you were wondering. It's hard, but if we both manage to pull through, we won't have to worry about bumps down the road. Scholarships and grants help, too."

"Sounds tough," Leon comments. "You know, if you really want—"

"I'm not taking your money," Emil quickly refuses. "It's wrong." He feels guilty considering he now has one hundred thousand extra heta in his credit account, but he considers that a decent payment for making a complete fool out of himself.

"Ice, a hundred thousand here and there is, like, nothing to me. We're supposed to be friends, right? Friends stick out for each other."

Emil bites his lower lip. "Then what am I supposed to do for you?"

Leon falls silent for a moment. He sees Emil as a modest type, the kind that prefers not to trouble others too much just like Cheng. However, where Cheng understands the concepts of compensation where due, Emil devotes himself to putting others first. He suspects he picked it up from his brother. During his thought process, Leon's mind wanders back to his light-hearted proposition he made earlier. It is a long shot, but he is never one to back down from trying whatever he can to get what he wants. This will be no exception to his tendencies.

"Can I change your mind about the modeling thing?" he brings up. He watches intently as his friend's flawless lilac eyes rapidly blink in flustered succession. The color rises to his cheeks, and he notices his fingers curling over one another like nervous worms. So he is still unsure of the proposition. That is a good thing. It means his mind is not completely set on declining.

"Y-You can't just expect me to model," he stutters with a quiet voice. Unlike his fans who try to woo him with nasal-droned and high-pitched squeals, Leon finds Emil's bashful voice to be rather cute and innocent; he thinks it is also due to the fact that Emil sees him more as a human being instead of a media icon.

"I can," Leon says. "I can hook you up with a professional photographer. My old man runs a large portion of the modeling industry in Eliatha*, too, you know. Plus the pay is good. You won't even have to do it every day, maybe, like, even only three times a month."

Emil shakes his head. Leon does not see this as a sign of defeat; he sees this as a challenge. Of course, he knows he will win him over. He always wins.

"You said it yourself: your brother's working his ass off for you," he continues. "If you don't want to feel guilty about always relying on him, this can be, like, your first real step to becoming an adult."

"But…" Leon watches in amusement as Emil pulls his hat to conceal his eyes. "I'm…I'm not very…photogenic."

How cute. "Are you kidding, Ice? You don't need to always be, like, smiling for the camera and all that. The professionals know how to take a model's personality and amplify that to make it really standout-ish."

"_Standout-ish…?_" Emil echoes under his breath. "But I'm not even that good-looking."

Leon scoffs and gives his friend's forehead a flick. While Emil is recovering from his blatant rudeness, he continues to speak. "Ice, if I think you're not half bad, then by the public's standards, you're a godsend."

Emil only narrows his eyes and pulls his lips into a frown. "So what does that make you?"

"Too fabulous for words," he half-heartedly jokes. "Come on. Please?"

"No," he refuses. The elevator has since reached the ground floor. Even as they walk to the Lightning Rail, Leon is trying to convince him to consider modeling to no avail. He is modest, but he is also a little stubborn for his own good. Leon will have to change that.

"No means no!" Emil snaps when they reach the blue station. "I don't even know what I'd be modeling for!"

"Just fashion magazines and stuff," Leon casually answers. "Can't you at least think about it?"

"No," he says. The train back to Circuit arrives first. Emil quickly heads over to the cart, swipes his pass, and hops onto the escalator.

"I'll call you," Leon tells him before his is out of hearing range. Emil does not give him a reply even when the doors close shut and the line zips away.

"Okay," he sneers when he is left to wait for the other line to arrive. When the line headed to Volt arrives, he boards the cart and sits far from the weary passengers. Then, he turns on his main phone and sees the mail icon exploding with over a hundred messages.

"Probably just some stupid spam," he sighs and starts to delete them one by one. After clearing out his inbox, he decides to do a little searching into Emil Steilsson's student registry at Circuit University. Hacking into his bank account was easy enough, and if that was the case, he thinks doing a little fiddling with a school's database should be a walk in the park.

* * *

Emil arrived back at his house at nine twenty, a decent amount of time before his brother's countdown meter dried up. Because of that, he got away without having to go into details about his night with Leon. He did not tell Lukas about the modeling job offer.

The next day, Emil attends school as any other day. The events of last night are put aside as he heads off through his school gates and attends his math lecture. However, he gets a strange feeling from over his shoulder as though someone is watching him from behind. Curious, he turns his neck and checks. To his relief, he does not see Leon. Then again, it should be impossible for Leon to sneak into the school. First of all, he needs a registered student identification. Second, he has to know Emil's exact schedule. Third, he will get torn apart by fans if he shows his face in plain daylight.

To his credit, however, Leon is more tactful and resourceful than Emil imagines him to be. Instead of personally dropping by the university, someone else is in his place—two people, in fact. After his lecture ends, Emil makes his way to the library. There is a comfortable two-hour gap between his math lecture and his chemistry lab so he uses the slot of time for catching up on his studies. However, just as the library comes into view, two mysterious people wearing spiffy business attire—a man with dark brown spiky hair stylized to oddly resemble Mathias' and a woman with a lighter shade of brown hair tied in a sweeping ponytail—block him from advancing any further.

"Um…" He swallows when he gives them a good look. Neither of them looks visibly buff, but they give off an aura of absolute dominance. He cannot read their eyes as they are wearing sunglasses that hide any giveaway expressions. When he tries to move around them, they follow his steps and block his path. Emil quickly looks at his surrounds. None of the students are looking at him; they are either preoccupied with their phones or talking with someone, not that he expects them to give a damn.

"Er," he clumsily starts," can I help you?"

The woman adjusts her sunglasses and proceeds to speak. "Emil Steilsson, I presume?"

"Y-Yes?" he stammers.

"We would like you to come with us," she says. "Leon requested that we pick you up and prepare you for your appointment by noon sharp."

He steps back. "What? This is crazy! Who the—? How'd you even get in here?"

"Don't make this difficult for us all, Emil," the woman says. "We are running late. We will provide you with an explanation shortly."

Emil does not waste any more time with these two. The very look of them sends shivers down his spine even when he thinks he is meters away. He heads in the direction of the science building, but before he can reach the doors, something latches onto both of his arms and hoists him into the air like a forklift to a box.

"Put me down!" he cries and tries to kick back, but the mysterious duo is having none of it. When he looks back, he sees the one holding him is the dark-skinned Mathias look-alike.

"Leon didn't say anything about him trying to run," the man tells the woman with a light chuckle. Emil is wondering how they can even find something like this amusing. This is no better than a kidnapping in broad daylight.

The woman sighs and folds her slender arms around her waist. "He did say he was snappy. Let's take him to the car. Oh, and another thing." She tilts her head up to Emil. "Don't try to make a scene. You're going to raise questions, and questions lead to publicity. Leon doesn't need any of that right now."

"If anyone's trying to make a scene, it's you two!" Emil grunts as he tries to wriggle his arms free without success.

The suited duo somehow manages to take Emil out of the university and all the way to the underground parking lot. None of this makes any sense to him. There are cameras all around the university in case of a mishap. How did no one call security on them when he was clearly taken from the school grounds, he wonders?

Questioning aside, he is thrown into the backseat of a shiny black vehicle while the other two take their seats in the front. Much to his annoyance, there is a black window separating the back seat from the front of the vehicle so he cannot directly pinpoint where they might be headed. To make things worse, the doors lock when he makes a move for them. He is trapped. Whether Leon is somehow responsible or not, this is definitely considered a kidnapping.

"Where are you taking me?!" he shouts from the back and pounds on the black-tinted window. The nerve of them! He cannot even find seat belts in the back!

The only answer he gets comes in the form of muffled voices. Realizing it is pointless to escape by physical means, he tries to see if he can contact the police. But when he checks his phone, a call immediately comes his way. The number is unknown, but he has a sinking feeling that he knows who it is. With a heavy heart and a swelling headache, he hits the "Answer" button and slowly holds up the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he answers.

The voice is the one he suspects to hear, the arrogant, spoiled, golden voice of a celebrity who goes too far to get what he wants.

"Hi, Ice. How was school?"

Emil makes a mental reminder to himself to ask for Leon's number after he lands a good hit on him.

* * *

*Anagram of "Hetalia." It's a fictitious country/universe I tend to use in my stories.


	5. V

The car ride takes Emil through Circuit and somewhere past what he thinks is Wire, but he cannot be too sure. He remembers there being several electronic signs constructed along the tall glass buildings and a large gate enforced with coils and thin-filmed carbon chains. There is a moment where the driver—the woman, specifically—rolls down her window and sticks her hand out. The windows are heavily tinted, but Emil thinks he sees her scanning a code on her phone; afterwards, the gate opens, and the vehicle drive through. From there, everything changes: gone are the local suburbs and pedestrians walking on foot; there is not a single piece of trash to be seen on the pathways; the buildings are sparkling with energy and reflected sunlight; and every single store on both sides displays high-end brand names and fashion styles Emil only recognizes the elite to wear. He must be in Volt.

His assumptions are later confirmed when the car drives into a garage through an elevated life system. Older areas around Circuit and Wire still have mechanized lifts, but in wealthier places like Neon and Volt, high-energy magnetism and electricity are used to power the lifts. The elevator takes them high above the ground floor at least by thirty floors, Emil thinks. All the while, his head is spinning with questions and muddled emotions.

Earlier when he talked with Leon over the phone, he mentioned something about bringing his fame face to the show—whatever that meant. Emil, angered by the fact that he was being held against his will, tried to contact the police as well as his brother; however, to his unsettling surprise, his phone no longer functioned. Leon must have done something to his phone back when he hacked into his bank account. He wonders how he was able to do something so skillfully in such a short period of time; he thought those stunts were only reserved for movies and games. Nevertheless, Leon has him on a leash. There is nothing he can do until the car comes to a stop.

Sure enough, the vehicle soon halts at the edge of the circular elevated garage. Emil hears the two people get out of the car and open one door for him. A small voice in his head screams at him to push one of them out of the way and make a run for it, but he cannot think of where to run. He is in Volt. By technical terms, he is not even supposed to be here. Leon must have registered his name as a guest to gain access beyond the gates. It really sets his blood rushing thinking about how easy it is to push him around just because of his phone.

The woman, who is on Emil's left, urges him to get out. "We have to go, Emil," she says. "Leon is waiting for you. It's urgent that you meet with him as soon as possible. Time is short, and time is money."

"To you guys," Emil grumbles and reluctantly gets out. Despite his feelings of trepidation, he shuts his mouth, gets in line between his two captors, and allows them to escort him to wherever their destination lies.

None of them say anything while they move from an elevator, to a long hall, up a set of escalators, through another elevator, and down yet another hall to an ordinary-looking door. Once they reach this location, the man and woman gesture for Emil to enter on his own.

Swallowing a sticky glob lodged in his throat, he nervously fingers the doorknob before slowly turning it and pushing it open just a crack. He barely manages to do that before the door suddenly swings open with his hand still gripping on, and it pulls him—hand, body, and all—all the way inside the unlabeled room. He lets out a small cry when he flies forward and nearly hits the floor when someone catches him by the waist. Granted, all the air flies out of his stomach, but at least someone saved him from the embarrassment of face-planting on the ground. And without any startling revealers, the person who saved him is none other than Leon Wang.

"You're a little later than I thought you'd be," he smirks without even bothering to greet him. Emil pushes him away and gathers himself together. His hair contains disrupted tufts and curls from his struggle. His clothes are inappropriately worn in comparison to the rest of the people standing around; they are dressed in all black like they are attending the funeral of someone who prefers a send-off in style. The women are wearing shoulder-less sweaters with tight pencil skirts complete with complimenting dark stockings and thick platform shoes. Emil is baffled at how they can even walk in such a restrained look. The men, on the other hand, are wearing high-collared sweaters with tight pants hugging their thighs to their ankles. They are also wearing all black. Emil thinks they fare no better than the women.

"Can you explain what the heck this all is?" Emil growls. "Thanks to you, I missed my chem lab. You'd better have a good explanation, Leon." He can hear the soft murmuring of the people in black, but he is too upset to bother with their opinions in the heat of the moment. "And what did you do to my phone? My service doesn't work anymore, and I was able to get into Volt without any invitation or registration."

To his further annoyance, Leon waves his fingers in the air with his smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's just a little skill, Ice. Nothing a celebrity can't pull off."

Emil curses and tears his head away. Behind him, the door is blocked by a handful of people in black setting up what appear to be spotlights. The people who drove him here are nowhere to be seen. Either they took off or they are waiting outside in case he tries to make a run for it.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"They're setting up now that they know what you look like," Leon explains.

Emil does not like the sound of this. "What I look like?" he echoes. "Why should they care? And just yesterday, weren't you the one who was all 'Oh, we shouldn't let anyone see us together. People will know who you are and invade your privacy.' So why the sudden change of heart?" He expects an answer, but instead, he gets his neck locked in between Leon's arm like a bully victim. No amount of struggling or cursing gives way to the actor's surpassing strength.

Leon takes him to a different area of the room where discarded poles, lights, and rolls of cloth are lying around. It must be a storage room, he thinks.

"Ice, just play along for now," he whispers, his voice unusually low, but Emil is having none of it.

"I'm sick of your games, Leon," he hisses. "You think you can just get your freaky bodyguard spies or whatever to kidnap me in broad daylight and waste my time? If this is about the modeling thing, I am _not _doing. I told you before, and I'm going to tell you now: leave me alone." He starts to head back to the main room grumbling under his breath. "I can't believe we were supposed to be soul mates. What were they thinking making us pair up together like this? Even being friends with this guy is a pain in the ass. No wonder I never had friends before. My life was so much easier—"

"Ice, please just hear me out," his "friend" pleads with him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into the storage area. Emil has had enough at this point.

"No!" he lashes out. "This isn't funny, Leon Wang! I want to go back to Circuit!"

"I'm sorry Ice…" Leon's sudden change in voice catches him from lashing out any further. His voice grows meek and subdued like a defeated puppy or a child that was given a time-out. His lips are no longer tightened into his definitive, overconfident smirk, and his head in hung lower than Emil's line of sight. Because of that, Emil quiets down and hears what he has to say.

"I had a fight with my old man yesterday," he explains in a distraught voice. "I'm not supposed to leave my hotel without his permission anymore. If I do, he said he has to send bodyguards out with me wherever I go, and you know we both don't want that. That's why…" His feet shift in place. "…I brought you here. I need to finish up with a photo shoot here, too, and I dropped a hint to one of my photographers that maybe you could do a few shoots with me." He desperately looks up. "Ice, this is the only way we can spend time together. No one knows who you are here, and I fabricated your personal information so they think your name is seriously Ice."

"_What?_"

"You won't believe the shit I have to pull to get you here, Ice," Leon presses. "Please do this for me. It's not even going to take that long. They'll put you into an outfit, and they're just going to shoot a couple of pictures. Most of it is just editing techniques and—"

"Leon, I said NO!" Emil shouts. From the main studio, everyone has fallen into a deafening silence. He realizes he let his emotions get the better of him, but he can hardly blame himself when he is kilometers away from where he is supposed to be. If his brother finds out, he may never get to leave his house again.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" he continues to snap. "This isn't a movie, Leon, where you pull off some over-the-top stunt and expect the people around you to fall head over heels for you. _It doesn't work that way. _This is reality, and whether you know it or not, you should know that you can't get everything you want in life."

Leon blinks.

"Tell those freaky guys in the suits to take me home, Leon," Emil demands with a firm voice and an unrelenting stare. "And while you're at it, fix my phone and take back your heta. I don't want it. I can survive on my own without the help of some high-end celebrity. You don't even know the meaning of hard work, do you? You've been living like a star all your life. Well, guess what? Sometimes, it doesn't always have a happy ending."

His lungs are ready to burst after he finishes. He cannot recall ever talking to someone like that for so long in his life. One part of him feels proud that he managed to talk like that to someone like Leon Wang; however, the other part of him thinks he was a fool for saying that. There is no doubt that Leon will do something drastic. He does not have to take his lip. He is Leon Wang, adopted son of Yao Wang, one of the wealthiest men—if not the wealthiest—in all of Holo and even Eliatha. Saying something like "you can't get everything you want in like" does not have to apply to him. He might have made a big mistake.

But, as usual, Leon says something that always manages to take him by surprise. "If that's what you want, then I can do that," he speaks in a quiet voice. His face is concealed by his bangs and his head lowered at a near ninety-degree angle. Emil cannot see his golden eyes anymore. "I'll fix your phone, and I'll redo everything, but if I do, then we'll never speak to each other again."

Never, he says.

Somehow the word frightens Emil. Never. As in the word that he uses with his parents, of how he will never be able to laugh with them or ask for their comfort, or of how he will never be able to smell his mother's familiar scent or embrace them during difficult times. Never.

Leon's hand is sticking out. Emil thinks he means to fix his phone and rewire his bank account to its normal numbers. The entire time, they do not see each other's eyes. One looks defeated while the other feels guilty.

A sharp pain in his chest overtakes him. This is not what fate had in store for him. He does not think this is the end. This cannot be. Their watches hit their zeros at the same time. There must be more. He waited a short amount of time compared to some searching for their soul mates, but in his opinion, nineteen years is a damn long time to wait to meet his significant other. If he leaves him now, he will not just throw away those nineteen years…he will throw away a friend.

His friend's hand is still extended out to him like a ghostly limb from a decaying tree. Leon's head can practically reach the ground from limping off its neck like a dead weight. Emil's hands are rigid, but his fingers still contain a little life. His mouth is hung open, wondering if he is making the right decision. Then with his phone in hand, he lifts the device out to him and hands it over. A tug pulls on it, but the phone does not slip from his fingers.

Leon looks up and finds that Emil's thumb is squeezing on it. He is not letting go. He persists, but the phone sticks in place, wedged between their fingers.

"I want your number," he says to Leon. "And I don't want the one on the phone you turn off; I want the number to your phone you leave on."

His friend gapes at him with an expression of pure wonder and bewilderment. He, too, is unfamiliar with this sensation. Emil is a remarkably fascinating person underneath the surface. He wants to know more about him. He wants to dig underneath the surface until no corner remains unexplored, where no stone is left unturned. In that instance, without a moment's doubt, Leon realizes something: he _wants _Emil.

The first response that comes out is a simple "Sure" on his part. He takes Emil's phone with a smile and punches in the number to his emergency phone, the phone that, until now, was only used for contacting Cheng. Now there are two important people in his life.

"Here," he says and gives Emil back his phone. "And about the money, just keep it. I'll stop messing with your stuff, but just keep the money as a gift from me to you." Emil gives him a doubtful look that makes Leon hold his hands up like a captured thief. "I'm not saying our friendship has a money value! I'm just trying to be nice!"

To his relief, Emil cracks a smile and puts his phone away. "You have a funny way of showing it," he chuckles and looks up at him. Those are what he wants to see, those captivating lavender eyes against his snow-white complexion. For someone who does not believe himself to be photogenic, he has a certain charm that will capture the hearts of viewers—with the right training and timing, of course.

When all is said and done, they start to back each other down with sheepish looks. Neither of them really knows what to say to the other until someone from the studio (wearing all black) pops into the storage area and asks for them to hurry up.

"Leon, we don't have all day here," he says in a sassy, over-exaggerated voice. "We have exactly two hours to finish here, and there are still touch-ups and outfits to chose for your friend." He refocuses his attention to Emil. "Ice, was it?"

"Uh…yeah…" he answers in a meek voice. He feels like this person is able to see through his clothes and straight at his pale, scrawny body just by staring long enough. In fact, after hearing his reaction, that might just be the case.

"You sure are the skinny fellow," he remarks without any shame. Emil wants to throw a dirty look his way, but he tells himself that these people must work with famous models and actors round the clock. "That's not going to be a prob'. Makes it easier to slip on any tight-fitting clothes." He snaps his fingers at Leon like an owner to his dog, but Leon does not make a reaction. "And you, boy, go get changed. Ice, come with me."

Emil opens his mouth only to let out a startled gasp as the man clings onto his arm and drags him away.

"Have fun, Ice," Leon snickers with a short wave and disappears to another part of the studio.

Never in his life did he expect modeling to be so strenuous on the body as well as the mind. The moment Emil comes into the dressing studio, a team of women and men alike plop him onto a platform, orders him to take off his clothes (luckily Emil was wearing a light tee underneath), and take measurements of all parts of his body. Some of the women come uncomfortably close to areas he prefers to keep to himself, but it cannot be helped. Right after that, they shoot their mouths off like guns and discuss measurements, colors, fabrics, and appearances. It is no better than being a living doll. He gets no say in the matter when they then throw him behind a stall, toss some clothes his way, and bark at him to get changed like a drill sergeant. As he is changing, Emil wonders if Leon gets the same kind of treatment when he does photo shoots.

Once he is finished dressing, the crewmembers and assistants take him to a mirror where they begin to brush his hair and dust his cheeks with rosy powders.

"His skin is so soft," one of the women swoons when she examines his jawline. "Look at how white it is."

"I know, right?" her co-worker giggles. "Like, his face is so perfect, and is this natural?" She runs her longer fingernails through his hair. Emil holds himself back from shuddering even though it feels like plastic knives running through his head.

"I-It's natural," he timidly answers before they dab his lips with what looks like lip-gloss. He suspects his lips must be too pale that it matches his skin complexion.

"Even his lashes are white!" the giggle box squeals when she looks at his eyelashes. "Look at this!" Her co-worker leans over for a closer look and lets out what sounds like an exaggerated gasp. At this point, Emil cannot tell if they are acting or being genuine.

"Oh my gosh, you're right," she smiles. "That's so cute. Where did Leon pick up this boy?"

If it were not for the makeup, Emil might have made a face. They were acting like he was not even here. They could have easily asked him where Leon found him. At the same time, though, he thinks it is best to hide his explanation in case the thing about their watches synchronizing is a big deal.

"I think he said he picked him up at a club or something?" the other one guesses. "I can't remember. He was vague about it."

"Oh. He's really cute."

"I know, right?"

Emil refrains from rolling his eyes.

* * *

When he finally comes out of the dressing room, Emil can no longer move his face. He feels like the makeup will come off if he so much as blinks his eyes. The sensation is no better than wearing a mask of broken glass and needles pointing at his skin; if he moves, it will be all over for his face. Leon notices this right away when Emil meets up with him again.

"Whoa, you look nice," he chuckles when Emil is within speaking distance. "Oh, you don't have to worry about moving your face. They do a good job with the touch-ups—not that you needed that much. Come on. Smile."

"I don't feel like it," Emil grumbles. His lips are barely moving. He wants to take a napkin and get rid of all the lip-gloss. It is sticky and beyond annoying. Unlike Leon's perfectly reddish pink lips, Emil has the short end of the draw with pale lips that are more white than pink.

"Huh." Leon flicks back his bangs. "Okay…One sec, Ice." He excuses himself for a moment and goes to a man with a black beanie over his entirely black outfit. Why black, Emil wonders? When Leon finishes talking with the man in the black beanie, he tells him he does not have to worry about smiling anymore.

"Ice, come over here," the man with the beanie says. "Chop chop. Come on. You look fabulous. Leon tells me you're camera shy? This is your first time?"

"Y-Yes…" he answers in accordance to his modest nature.

"That's fine. We'll see what we can do." He gives him a light push forward onto the white tarp that acts as both a backdrop and flooring. "Okay, so what I want you to do is to act natural. Give us an expression of you."

Emil's first thought is that he must joking. He thought the photographers were supposed to tell him how to model, not to have him make up his own posses. Desperate for assistance, his attention automatically turns in Leon's direction. His friend only gives him a "V" sign and a wink.

"Some help _you_ are," Emil grumbles under his breath and looks back at the camera. He does not know what to do. By reflex, his hand moves to his other arm and squeezes it for physical reassurance. His mouth is hung half open to prevent his lips from sticking together, and his weight shifts to one leg for support. His shoulders squeeze together in nervousness, and his back bends a slight angle to the front. His head moves ever so slightly to the floor, and in an attempt to say something, a bright light flashes in to his eyes. The spell is broken.

"What the—!" he gasps. "I wasn't ready!"

"You were to us," the cameraman bluntly replies and tells him to do another pose.

Frightened and clearly thinking he has made a mistake, Emil seeks the support of Leon. "Leon, what am I supposed to do?" His voice cracks, a compliment to his blushing fit. His cheeks are bright red at this point.

"Just be yourself, Ice," he tells him. His arms are crossed as if he is establishing an unapproachable, dominant character.

"I can't be myself like this in front of all these people!" he cries. His heart feels like it will leap out of his throat at any second.

Leon quickly goes over and whispers something to the cameraman. After that, the cameraman tells everyone in the studio to take a fifteen-minute break. Everyone eagerly disperses along with the cameraman while Leon walks up to the set.

"Gee, guess I pushed this a little too hard on you," he finally admits.

"Oh, you think?" Emil snaps. "I don't even know why I'm doing this…"

"So we can spend time together, Ice," Leon smiles. "You're nervous, right?"

Emil immediately nods.

"We don't have to use the large sets if you don't want. A regular camera is fine. Here, let me see what I can get." He quickly disappears and returns with a decent-sized camera with a simple lens attached. "How about you get on your knee?" he suggests. Emil listens and cautiously sits on one knee. His movements are as restricted as the clothing. How anyone can wear this stuff on a regular basis is beyond his grasp.

"Now lift your other knee up like so," Leon says, "and while you're at it, rest your elbow on your leg."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he chuckles. "Okay, now just…uh, like, just put your cheek on your hand or fist. It doesn't matter which one." He waits for Emil to decide on his pose. He goes with a loosely closed fist. "That's fine. Here, I'll get a few shots. Look at the camera for me, Ice."

Emil's eyebrows come together in a miniscule crease. "Do they care that you're wasting their data?"

"Nah, don't worry," Leon dismisses. "They've got boxes and boxes of memory chips. You don't have to smile if you don't want to." Emil does not smile. "That's fine. Okay, I'm going to take it now. One…two…three!"

The shutter goes off, and the lights surrounding Emil flash in synchronization. When the light disappears, his eyes are swimming with bubbles of light and ghost-like bubbles blinking wherever he looks.

"Gah…" he groans.

"You're not used to that, huh?" Leon takes note. Emil shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. "That's okay. It takes some getting used to. Can you keep going?"

"Sure," Emil replies. He figures this is better than having an entire team of crewmembers staring at him. It will be good practice, too, if he ever feels compelled to agree to something like this in the future.

For the rest of the break, the two continue to pose and shoot photo after photo. Emil puts up little resistance when his friend tells him to pose a specific way. None of the poses Leon tells him to do are over the top or too uncomfortable to get into. When he is asked to sit down and tilt his head, he sits down and tilts his head. When Leon tells him to look towards the ground, he looks at the ground. This continues on until the crewmembers' break is finished. While preparing for the photo shoot again, the main cameraman takes a look at Leon's photos.

"These aren't bad," he comments before adding, "for someone without any experience with professional photography. So this is Ice's character?"

"Shy and modest," Leon says. "He's a good kid." Emil wants to say something about being called a "kid." Leon is younger than him, after all. But, he keeps his mouth shut and waits for further instructions.

"I suppose we can work with that," the cameraman says. "But today we were just doing some samples." He pauses to look at Emil who is standing in a restricted, closed-off pose. "So you're saying you want us to use this character of his for these certain kinds of poses."

Leon brushes his bangs out of his eyes. "I don't want to make him something he's not. Just get his character down. It's good for people who are reserved, don't you think?"

The man does not look like he particularly agrees, but since Leon's father is the one who hired him for this position, there is little he can do to protest. "We'll see what we can do with this, then," he says. "Could be cheaper, too. I think he likes working with fewer people. He didn't even need that many touchups from what I heard."

"Nope. He's cute."

Emil hears that comment and bows his head in a failed attempt to hide his blush. Some of the female members catch him and stifle their giggles.

Since it does not appear that Emil is comfortable with carrying on the photo shoot, they move right along to the rest of Leon's session while Emil changes back into his sweater and jeans. When he returns to the set with his ordinary clothes on, he sees a large crowd gathered around the set. It is impossible to see what is going on when there are so many people clustered like this, so much so that Emil gives up on trying to see Leon altogether. It is not until long after the photo shoot is done (forty minutes later) that he sees his friend again.

"Didja like what you saw?" he asks when he finishes, grabbing a bottle of chilled water and downing it in no more than a few gulps.

"I didn't even get to see you," Emil frowns. "Your little giggle box friends were making a barrier."

"Oh." Leon rubs his neck. "You can see the pictures when they finish the retouching—not that they need that much from me."

Emil glares daggers at him.

"Or, you," he quickly adds. "The guy says you didn't even need that much touching up. That's good." He pauses. "So, like, I've got an hour until I need to head back to my old man's building. You wanna, like, grab a bite to eat?"

"Go out?" Emil starts. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Nah, don't worry about it," Leon scoffs. "I've got Lien and Kasem with me today."

Emil raises an eyebrow. "And who are they?"

"Your escorts."

His stomach sinks. "What are they? Your bodyguards?"

This makes Leon laugh. "No. Lien and Kasem are my distant cousins. Lien's my old man's secretary, but she's taking time off to be here today; and Kasem's…well, yeah. Actually, he's a pretty much a bodyguard when he's not helping me with stunts and special effects. They're like family, though, because they are, I guess. So you wanna go out with them?"

Emil hesitates, but when his stomach answers otherwise, he unenthusiastically gives into his physiological demands. "Fine, I'll go," he sighs. "But no more kidnappings."

"Sorry," his friend continues to laugh. "I bet they had to do that because there was no other way to get you to go with them."

When they step outside of the studio, Emil and Leon see Lien and Kasem looking at something together at the end of the hall. When Leon calls out to them, Lien adjusts her sunglasses while Kasem runs at Leon with his phone.

"Leon, look at this!" he beams with a wide smile out of character than what Emil previously expected. His abruptly cheerful personality reminds him of Mathias. His hair, too. "Isn't this cute? Lien and I were looking at pictures!"

"Oh." Leon takes a closer look. Emil sees that it is a picture of a baby elephant. He remembers seeing one in the zoo at Wire. "Yeah, it's cute. So, anyway, we were thinking of going out to eat at Dragon."

Lien momentarily moves her head in Emil's direction. "Is he coming, too?"

"Of course he is," Leon says. "Let's go."

They walk back the way they came in. While Leon did not go in with Emil, he leads the way with a confident stride until they are back in the elevated parking lot. He calls for a race between him and Kasem; they then bolt across the parking lot until they reach the car around the same time.

"Boys," Lien sighs, shaking her head while she walks with Emil.

"Get in, Ice!" Leon smiles and slips into the back. With no other reason to refuse, Emil quietly sits in the only other backseat with a window. When the cars starts and moves back to the elevator, Emil talks with Leon.

"Leon, is it fine that they know my real name?" he quietly asks as though Lien and Kasem should not be hearing them. "I thought you didn't want anyone knowing who I was."

"Lien and Kasem are cool," Leon says. "Besides, they're family. They don't know about the watches, though."

"Oh…" Emil blinks. "So it's just your cousin?"

"Yup. What about you? You haven't told anyone else, have you?"

He shakes his head. "Good. The last thing I need is the media stalking our asses for coverage."

Emil's hands fidget. "How did you find out about my number and where my classes were?" he asks.

"That? It's just some hacking skills I picked up."

"Uh…"

"When you're born into a rich family, you do stupid things," Leon elaborates. "I just got bored one day, so, like, I just decided to learn how to hack. I was able to hack my old man's multibillion heta company when I was fifteen." He says that with a tinge of pride in his voice and a sparkle in his golden eyes. "Of course, I didn't do anything. Just knowing that I could mess with the employees and budgets was fine. None of the people who work for my old man are bad."

Emil chews on his lower lip. "And what about me going out with you like this? Won't people get a little suspicious?"

Leon tilts his head up to the ceiling as he thinks on that. "Mm, you've got a point. Hang on." He taps on the glass barring Lien and Kasem from the back. Kasem is the one who opens a slot in the window. "Hey, Lien, can you, like, stop by Blossoms on the way? I need to pick up something for Ice."

"Sure," she emotionlessly replies, and the slot closes back up.

Emil raises an eyebrow. "Isn't Blossoms an expensive line?"

"It's not _that_ expensive," Leon refutes. "Besides, I get discounts all the time because my cousin designs for them."

"Oh, yeah." Emil remembers researching something about that during his study-up on his friend's background information. "What's her name, again…? Mei Wang, was it?"

Leon smirks. "Hey, looks like you've been doing some studying, Ice."

He blushes. "I bet one of your fans would know more about you than I do." He pauses. "I was trying to fine out which cousin is the one who knows about us, but I couldn't pinpoint him."

His friend laughs. "Hey, all the better to meet him in person, then," he grins. "But, like, what do you think he's like?"

"I don't know, some guy in his late teens, early twenties?"

Leon blinks. "And?"

"And he likes stuff you like. Maybe dances and listens to music a lot or something. I-I don't really know, Leon."

To his flustered jumble of emotions, Leon just laughs again. The topic drops when they park in a garage next to Blossoms. Lien and Kasem escort them to the front. The entire building is covered from top to bottom in a gentle pastel pink like an old building that was sun bleached into a faded rosy color. Holograms of spinning pink flowers (Emil suspects they are plum blossoms) float around the store and spray little whiffs of a sweet-smelling scent when they pass through the sliding doors. In the front, there is a little hovering robot shaped like a pink cube there to greet them with a cute, electronic voice.

"Welcome back!" it chimes in a perky voice displaying a pixelated screen making a "^v^" symbol that resembles a happy bird. Emil always thought the "v" indicated a beak instead of an actual smile. The robot must recognize Leon's registration on his phone, which explains the reason it said, "Welcome back" instead of the usual "Welcome" at stores back home.

"May I interest you in a new selection of hats this afternoon?" the robot asks in an overly polite voice. It is too cute to ever belong to a human being.

"Actually, yes," Leon tells it.

"Right this way!" the robot squeaks and flies off into the store. It leaves a trail of spinning pink blossoms behind, a trick of the eyes displayed with nanotechnology. Emil thinks the scented sprays is generating the moisture in the air that helps make the blossom images possible. It is rather clever of the chain to serve two functions at once like that.

The robot is floating over the store's selection of hats when they all find it. Some of the hats are normal, but a large variety of them are designed to be in the shape of animals. There are several creatures ranging from cats to dogs and the more exotic bunny fairies and oddly adorable dragons.

"No two are alike!" the robot informs them. "We always ensure that your selection is one of a kind! No duplicates made!"

"Take your pick," Leon gestures towards the wall of hats. Emil immediately knows which one he wants. There is a black and white bird with a bright orange beak hung on a hook. Emil is unfortunately too short to reach it on his own, and the robot arrives to his assistance.

"Which one can I get for you?" it asks with its "^v^" display.

"The puffin hat," he quietly tells it, and watches as it floats to the top, extends a miniature-mechanized claw, lifts the hat up, and brings it down to him.

"Will that be all for you?" it squeaks.

"Yes," he says.

"We can ring it up right here if you'd like," it offers.

Leon steps in. "I'll take care of this." He shows the robot his phone that the robot scans. In less than a second, it starts to chug out numbers on a separate holographic screen. A small, electric wheel turns on the side that indicates the transaction process. Finally, the robot lets out a small _ding_ and displays a "^o^" symbol on its screen. It would almost be cute if it were not so excessively attending.

"Payment received! Thank you for shopping at Blossoms! Would you like a bag to go with that?"

"No, thanks," Leon says and slips the tag off. He hands it to Emil and instructs him to wear it right away. When the hat is on, they exit the store and return to their vehicle.

While driving, Emil fiddles with the wings on the sides of the hat. The material is significantly more comfortable than the hat Leon won him at Retro, and the rim hugs his head like a comfortable blanket resting around his cranium.

"Th-Thank you, Leon," he gratefully tells him in while driving.

"No problem."

"How much was this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Uh…I guess not to you." He thinks of something else to say. "So…if anyone saw us in Blossoms, what are we supposed to do about that?"

Leon leans over to him and pulls out his phone. "Already taken care of, Ice," he grins. "Look." On his phone is a prerecorded video of the time when they walked into Blossoms. Emil peers closer and sees to his surprise that it looks like only Leon, Lien, and Kasem went inside. It is as if he did not exist at all.

"How did you do that?" he breathes.

"Some software," Leon says. "It captures images of the store before we went inside, and I can just crop the images and paste it all over the locations you were at. If I use a program to continuously do that, I can erase you from the footage completely." His revelation suddenly disturbs Emil. With this kind of technology, he can get rid of a lot of evidence. Leon does not appear to be a bad person, though knowing he can easily cover up his tracks with a fabricated alibi proves to be rather unsettling.

"You could only do this if you hacked into Blossoms' security network," he whispers.

"Uh huh," he says without a trace of guilt. "I've been able to do it before finding out how to hack my old man's company." He notices Emil giving him untrusting stares. "Hey, I've never done anything bad. Honest. Yao would kill me three times over if he ever found out. I'm not a superstar because of my good looks alone, y'know."

Emil rolls his eyes and stares back out the window. There is nothing impressive to see other than the multitudinous rows of brand name stores and chains. The architecture and the occasionally glimpsed interior design are lovely, but there is little to gawk at when that is all there is to see. It is as if this place is not really alive. Even at Blossoms, he did not see any human employees attending their needs; checking items out was also not necessary to perform with human interactions.

"Hey, Leon, can I ask you something?" he brings up.

"Go for it," Leon replies, also looking out his window.

"Are all the shops here looked after by robots?"

"You mean Cubes?" Leon asks. "You're talking about that little pink thing floating around, right?"

"S-Sure," he nods.

"Yeah, they're all over the place. I forget you guys don't know about them. It's because the people in Volt have too much time to do other things—employees included. Think about it: if you hire employees to work anywhere, it means you're subjecting yourself to let 'commoners' into this district, right?"

Emil furrows his eyebrows. "So I'm inferior to you?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Leon clarifies. "I'm just saying that's how most of the people here in Volt think. Plus, if there are humans working, they have to pay them. You don't have to pay Cubes or worry about liabilities or insurance or getting sick…the list goes on. Plus after a while, you get used to them."

"So there are no humans in the stores, period?"

"There are. You just don't see them because they're considered upper management. Anyone who hangs around a store is usually the manager or owner. They take care of things like payments, stocks, and sales."

"Oh."

"It's kinda messed up, I know," Leon acknowledges.

Emil stares back out the window. There are more cars and taxis than there are pedestrians like in Circuit. After finding out about the Cubes, the streets are not as impressive and lively to him anymore. It is as if the place is, for a lack of a better word, lifeless.

"We're here," Leon suddenly announces to Emil and points out his side of the window. There is a large, elegant golden sign constructed on the outside of a large display of rocks. The sign is further surrounded by a pond, and when Emil looks closer, he thinks he can see fish swimming in it. He wonders if they are real or not.

Lien and Kasem open their doors when the car turns off. As they approach the restaurant, Emil sees them removing their sunglasses for once. Both sets of eyes, much like his friend's, are deep golden pools; Lien's, however, is a slightly brighter shade of gold like the afternoon sun, while Kasem's eyes are a soft shade of honey gold. Meanwhile, Leon tells Emil what the sign in the front says.

"That Jiang character is 'dragon,'" he explains. "If you knew that, you'd know that this restaurant is called 'Dragon.'"

"Why do they call it that?" Emil asks, pulling on his hat to make sure it is secure.

"Because this place is famous for selling dragontail."

Emil makes a disgusted face at the sound of the name. "Dragontail?" he echoes.

"It's a fish that has a long tail that looks like a dragon's," Leon explains. "It's good, and I'm someone who doesn't like eating fish all that much. Wanna get one?"

"Er, maybe when I get a scope of how much it is," he reluctantly replies.

Leon shrugs. "Suit yourself."

Unlike the chain stores like Blossoms, there is a waiter standing behind a small podium etched with elegant brass carvings. All of the characters are in Jiang. Emil is more focused on the fact that there are no Cubes serving the food or attending to the diners.

While Lien asks for a table for four, Emil turns to Leon. "Why aren't there any Cubes in here?" he asks.

Leon chuckles at how uninformed about Volt he is. "I forgot. In Volt, it's actually a _privilege _to work at a high-end restaurant."

"Why?"

"Because you get to meet all sorts of important people. No one goes to restaurants that don't have the ability to compete. In other words, every single restaurant in Volt is good. If you land a job, you're bound to bump into someone big sooner or later. The loose ones like to chat about their success stories, and the servers learn a thing or two. Then again, just about everyone in the waiting and kitchen staffs are elites, too; they're just more passionate about what they do, you could say. Chefs and popular servers are like celebrities in their own rights because people remember them."

"Wow," is all Emil can say to that. He really feels like he has lived under a rock all of this time now. Beyond the gates of the rich and elite, the district of Volt is like another world all on its own.

Emil follows Leon and his extended family to a table near an area with a transparent floor. When he looks below, he sees that there is water literally flowing underneath them. To his pleasant surprise and delight, there are fish that pass through the pebbled bottoms and circle around the waters.

"There are fish!" he quietly breathes in wonder.

Leon laughs. Of course, he must have been here several times and knows that fact. All the same, Emil asks if they are real or not.

"You'd better believe it," he grins and plops down on a seat next to him. "Those are koi. They even have them in the bathrooms."

"Seriously?" Emil gapes. He thinks he will use the restroom sometime in between their meal.

"Uh huh." He then hands him a menu and shifts his attention to his own. "Get whatever you want, Ice. It's my treat for dealing with me today."

Emil dryly laughs. "Ha. After everything you've put me through, I think I deserve a freaking feast and three hats."

Leon does not bat an eyelash. "I could get you those things, Ice."

"No!" he quickly bursts out. "I was just joking!" From the corner of his eyes, he can see Lien and Kasem giving each other amused looks—Kasem more so than Lien.

After some time passes, Leon excuses himself to go to the restroom. That leaves his cousins and Emil alone at the table. Emil is the only one who has not finished deciding on his dish. The menu is translated, but by the characters, he knows that this place is a Jiang-style restaurant. There are several things he wants to try, but he does not want to appear greedy or gluttonous. Dragontail is out of the question after seeing the high sticker price on the dish. He then thinks to ask Lien and Kasem for their opinions.

"Um, so…" he nervously pipes up, "do you guys have anything you recommend?"

"Curry!" Kasem smiles.

"Noodles," Lien softy answers.

Emil wonders if curry noodles is possible and gives his suggestion. Both rapidly shake their heads as if curry and noodles is something forbidden and unheard of. There are even looks of horror and utter disgust on their faces upon mentioning the combination of the two. He finally settles on a cold sampler plate with thin slices of meat, salted rooted vegetables, and jellyfish, a creature he thinks will be interesting to try after Lien and Kasem tell him of its curious flavor.

Right after deciding on his order, Leon returns—only, he is not alone. There is a tall person—even taller than Mathias—standing beside him with a polite smile, donning an impressively professional business suit. His entire aura looks refined like that of the classic gentleman from days long lost; his dark brown hair is neatly combed over the right side of his ear, and his striking golden eyes hide behind sharp glasses tucked on the bridge of his nose. Whoever this is, he has to be important.

"Ice!" Leon smiles when he steps to the side of this man. His smile, Emil catches, is wider than usual, like he is a child who found something interesting while playing in a hidden part of his house. "Guess who I bumped into at the other table?"

Emil can only stare in silence. He does not know who this man is, and to save himself the embarrassment of not knowing, he remains silent.

"Aw, Ice, I thought you'd know," his friend disappointedly pouts. "This is Cheng Wang! The cousin I was telling you about! Come on, say 'Hi' to him!"

"Oh…H-Hello…" he bashfully stutters. He can feel his neck shrinking into his shoulders.

"Hello to you, too," Cheng warmly smiles. "You must be Leon's friend. It's very nice to finally meet you." He extends his hand out to Emil to shake it. Emil clumsily reaches out and takes hold of his hand. His hands are soft, but his grip is firm and confident like a true businessman. It is hard to believe that this man is one of the tycoon figureheads in Neon. Just looking at him makes Emil breathe in fascination. He does not come off as snarky or intimidating, but composed and refined. As he goggles at him, Emil has a strange sensation of comfort, like he can be who he wants to be around him. He does not appear to be a fatherly type, yet he also does not seem to be the brotherly type, not as a friend, but not quite as a family member. Whatever the case, Emil thinks he likes this person.

* * *

_Thank you for all the kind words, everyone. I greatly appreciate them. They encourage me to continue writing this story._


	6. VI

It just so happened that Cheng was having lunch with a few business partners when his cousin spotted him above the other diners on his way to the bathroom. Ecstatic to see him so coincidentally, he eagerly took him over to his table to introduce Emil, his supposed significant other. Of course, Cheng has to return to his own party, but for now, he decides it is best to see to it that everything on Emil's end is doing fine.

"Are you enjoying your stay here in Volt?" he asks after taking an extra seat. He notices Emil's humble nature in a quick moment and talks to him on eye level—so as not to intimidate the overwhelmed young man any further.

"It's nice," he answers, twiddling his thumbs in crossed fingers. He never fails to keep his eyes on him, but it does not take an expert to spot how out of place he feels. Nevertheless, Cheng continues to smile, hoping he has not offended his cousin's friend in some way.

"There is a lot to see here in Volt if you know where to look. I think Leon will be more than happy to take you on a tour if he had the time."

Leon chuckles. "Yeah, _if _I had the time." He takes a sip of tea and grimaces at the taste. Though the tea is made from some of the most expensive tealeaves, the blend does not suit his taste palette. "Ugh, he groans. "This tea tastes like shit compared to yours, Cheng."

"Language, Leon," Cheng tells him. To Emil, he sounds lighthearted, but there is still a sense of authority in the way he speaks. Leon immediately apologizes for the outburst.

"Sorry," he mutters and turns to Emil, "but Cheng's tea is really good. Like, it's the best tea you'll ever drink."

Emil awkwardly smiles. "I-I don't really drink tea, but I'll take your word for it."

"Oh. Bummer," Leon comments. "So, Cheng, get this. Like, I was telling Ice about you, and he said that he thought you were some guy at, like, my age. And you liked music and dancing and all that."

"Really?" Cheng chuckles. "I'm glad you had such an energetic impression of me, Emil—or would you prefer I call you 'Ice?'"

For some reason, Emil enjoys the way Leon's cousin calls him by his real name. It sounds appropriately professional coming out of his mouth, and he thinks there is little harm to be done if one person addresses him as such.

"Emil is fine," he says. "It's kind of nice when you say it."

Everyone at the table smiles.

"Um…I read that you're usually situated in Neon," Emil converses with Cheng. "What's it like over there?"

"It's a pleasant place when you know what you want to do," Cheng answers. "Granted, Neon is not for everyone: it's constructed for the ambitious and colloquially wealthy—both in intelligence and in monetary wealth. All in all, it deserves praise for its ability to lure adults into its streets." He softly laughs. "I say it as though it is a crude place, but I assure you that there is plenty of entertainment provided. When you come of age, I'll be more than happy to show you around."

Leon scoffs before Emil can answer. "Please, I've been there loads of times. We can take Emil for a spin sometime, can't we?"

Cheng gives Leon a worried smile. "I'm not entirely sure his family will be fine with that, Leon. You have to understand that Emil, here, doesn't live his life the way you do."

His cousin flicks back some of his bangs in an irritated scowl. "Yeah, I was made all too clear of that a few minutes ago." Emil thinks he is referring to the little outburst he made back at the studio.

After their food arrives, Cheng excuses himself from the table so they can enjoy their meal. He sends himself off with a few words with Lien and Kasem before returning to his party's table, walking with an elegant yet confident stride the entire way.

"He's cool, isn't he?" Leon grins when his cousin is out of hearing range.

Emil agrees. "He is. I like him better in person."

"Right? But enough about that. We need to dig in before I need to go back."

He picks up two odd-looking sticks on a little rectangular dish and starts to prod at his food. Emil watches in astonishment as he easily picks up pieces of dragontail that he ordered and puts it onto his plate. From his peripheral vision, he detects his bewildered friend watching him using the curious utensils and holds them up to his eyes.

"You've never seen chopsticks before?" he smirks.

"Er…no…" he shamefully replies.

"They're like your forks of Jiang restaurants. You should learn how to use them."

Emil looks at his own chopsticks and picks them up. He watches as Lien and Kasem are also using chopsticks to eat their curry and noodles. It is amazing how Lien is able to use sticks to eat noodles. Such a thing should only be eaten with forks.

Still, he does not want to appear helpless and studies everyone's grip with intent eyes. Much to his dismay, however, it appears that everyone holds their chopsticks differently. Unsure of which way is easiest, he tries Leon's way before deciding it is impossible with his unsteady fingers.

After several unsuccessful attempts to eat his slices of beef and jellyfish, he admits to being unable to use chopsticks.

"I can't do it," he says, flattening the sticks on his napkin.

"Aw, that's cute," Leon snickers, moving his chopsticks over to his friend's plate. "Want me to help you?"

Emil makes a face. "No, I'd appreciate it if you'd help me." He lets out a deep sigh and swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth. To his credit, there is plenty of food to be had, but without the proper means of consuming the food, it is as if the food should not there at all.

"Alright, Ice" Leon snickers and shows him his chopsticks. "I'll teach you the baby way of using them."

"There's a basic way?"

Leon looks over at his cousins. "Well, Kasem uses the basic way, but Lien and I hold them differently. It has to do with dexterity." He pauses. "But judging by the way your fingers move, I'd say you don't have that much."

"Gee, thanks for the compliment," he sarcastically responds.

"Here, so show me how you hold a pencil." Emil holds both chopsticks like he would a pencil. "Good. You hold a pencil like that. So then you want to support the bottom chopstick on your middle finger like this." He shows him how it is done. "And then you want to pinch the upper one with your index finger and thumb. Then you can just, like, move it up and down like so."

Emil tests Leon's instructions out with shaky fingers. There are times when his fingers flat out refuse to move the way he wants; other times, he drops his chopsticks and has to have them replaced. There are waiters hovering over them nearby with an extra set of chopsticks at the ready. They occasionally ask Emil if he wants a fork, but he refuses their offer in hopes that he can master the art of using the Jiang utensils.

"Ice, you're pushing yourself too hard," Leon comments. "Keep doing that and I'm going to eat your food." To make a point, he effortlessly takes a piece of a transparent noodle-shaped squiggle that Lien previously told him is jellyfish. Leon continues to eat more until a third of the plate is cleaned. "Better hurry, Ice," he says between bites.

Emil shoves him aside using his shoulder. "Stop it!" he snaps. "I'm starving, too!"

"We don't mind if you use a fork," Kasem says. He and Lien are nearly finished with their dishes.

"No, I can do it," he insists and tries to take a piece of jellyfish. It slips out to his minor frustration. He holds himself from making a noise in case Leon laughs at him and tries again. It falls out of his chopsticks once more. Leon takes another piece.

This torturous cycle continues until Emil finally manages to pick up a piece of jellyfish. When it stays in his chopsticks until he can take it to his lips, he holds a small celebration in his mouth for completing the difficult task.

"Nice job, Ice," Leon beams. "Too bad you couldn't do that five minutes ago."

"Shut up," he grumbles and chews on the jellyfish. The jellyfish, itself, does not taste like anything, but there are seasoned oils and little bursts of pepper and vinegar that bring out a pleasant taste and crunchy texture.

"How is it?" Lien asks.

"It's good," he says and takes another bite. He feels a sense of accomplishment when this piece also stays in his chopsticks. He zealously eats it and takes another and another. Leon looks slightly disappointed that he has mastered the basic chopsticks hold, but he congratulates him and returns to his own dish.

Soon, they are all finished with their meal, and without a moment to lose. Lien reminds Leon that he has to return to his guardian's building to get ready for a movie he is doing. Kasem also has to get ready, too, since he is part of the special effects department.

"It never feels like you guys are always on tight schedules," Emil brings up when they drive to the gold station to drop him off. "Every time I'm with you, you guys always seem to make time for me…or is that just my imagination?"

"Don't sweat it, Ice," Leon grins. "It's all work. Did you see how we were able to see Cheng over there? If we were someone else, that would have been, like a golden opportunity to chat with him. So, like, even lunch is pretty much like work."

Emil puts a hand to his temples. "I don't think I'd be able to keep up with it all," he groans.

"Well, you'd better. If your modeling career takes off, you're going to have to do a whole lot of time management and socializing."

That makes the modest college student nervous. "But what if I don't want it to take off? I just thought that thing we did today was for experience."

"You're letting that pretty little face go to waste, Ice," Leon yawns. In spite of how casually he says that, he still earns a blush from Emil's creamy complexion. "Like I said, this is the only way we can spend time together unless I don't mind my old man killing me three times over." He pauses. "Or do you want to do acting, too?"

"No," Emil immediately says. Their conversation is cut short until they arrive at the Volt rail stations.

The gold station in Volt is exceedingly fancier than the other stations Emil has been to. Like the streets in the elite district, there is not a single piece of trash to be found. There are also Cubes hovering around the premise, and some of them, Leon explains, are there for security surveillance.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Ice," Leon assures him. "I've got you locked under a permanent residence in Volt."

Emil blinks, as he does not understand what he means.

"That basically says you live in Volt so you don't have to worry about coming in and out however you want."

"But I live in Circuit," Emil reminds him.

"Not on the databases, but no one needs to know that—unless you _want _to live in Volt."

Emil shakes his head. He cannot imagine keeping up with everyone else the way Leon does. And there is also Lukas and Mathias to worry about. Even if Lukas somehow agrees to let him live in Volt, he feels that his brother will end up following him there.

"Suit yourself," Leon shrugs. "Oh, that's right. You've met Cheng, but I haven't met your brother and his soul mate. You've gotta, like, introduce me to them sometime."

The air around Emil freezes at the thought. He imagines Lukas will go berserk at the slightest advancement Leon makes on him. As for his soul mate…

"Oh, the Lightning rail's here!" Leon exclaims. "Ice, you'd better get on. I've gotta go now. See you later?"

"Ah—Well…" Emil looks over his shoulder and sees Lien and Kasem impatiently waiting for him. Lien is silently tapping her foot while Kasem is frantically waving his cousin over. "I'll see you again," Emil finally says. "I'll call you…maybe."

Leon grins. "That's cool. See you around then." He gives Emil's hat a quick pat before heading back. "Oh, and try to keep that hat on you whenever we're around." With that, he runs back to his cousins and goes off to his guardian's building. Meanwhile, Emil steps into the cart and takes the rail system back to Circuit before his brother suspects anything is wrong. He will also have to think of a way to explain why he did not make it to his chemistry lab session today.

* * *

The trip back to Circuit leaves a hatless Emil not too far from a familiar face's building. While making his way back to his house (since his classes are over for the day), he decides to take a short detour in another direction.

There is vine-covered building decorated with sharp primary colors of ocean blues, lemon drop yellows, and candied apple reds. Emil recognizes the smell before he recognizes the painted window at the front spelling out "Køhler." There are little boxes of real flowers on display in the dirt-filled shelves and potted plants hanging on chains above the rafters. Two tables are set outside for warmer days, though there is no a single person to be seen since lunchtime has already passed. Emil does not mind the lack of customers since it means less pushing around and enters through the mahogany door with an old, copper-rusted school bell jingling over his head.

This place is an old-fashioned bakery: there are still plastic trays passed down through generations and the same cartoon rabbit and fox cellophane designs on the individual breads. A bucket of tongs lay handles up at the edge of a shelf lined with loaves, tarts, buns, and rolls. Emil's stomach is still decently satiated from his lunch at Dragon, but his mouth still waters when the smells of stewed strawberries, raisin-embedded croissants, and buttery loaves that melt in his mouth reach his nose.

His moment of peace gets interrupted when the shuffling sounds of cellophane and plastic-wrapped shoes come to the front. A tall figure is carrying a new batch of loaves freshly baked, too hot to package into wrapping. Behind the tray, Emil can see sandy blonde spikes of hair pointed to the cozy ceiling, and when the person moves his head to see who has entered the bakery, a large grins spreads, and two sky-blue eyes light up.

"Ice!" he exclaims and sets down his tray. "Whatcha doing all the way here?!"

In the time Emil has hung around Leon and his mild-mannered family, he has briefly forgotten how loud Mathias can be. He never knows how Lukas is able to tolerate him for more than half an hour.

"I got off from class early, and I thought I'd stop by," he somewhat lies. It is true that he left class early (for reasons not exactly honest), and it is true that he wanted to pay him a visit. He figures he does not have to tell Mathias about getting "kidnapped" and taken to Volt.

"Aww, and you came all the way here to see me!" Lukas' old friend smiles with a longing expression. "You want some bread? It's fresh out of the oven."

Emil declines with a crooked smile. "Er, no thanks. I'm not really hungry."

"Don't be silly, Ice!" Mathias laughs. "You're always hungry after class! I know your stomach better 'an Lukas does! Take one!"

Seeing that the energetic baker is not backing down, Emil releases a deep sigh and takes a loaf from the tray. The crust is still warm when he places it into his hands. As he takes a bite, he peels back the crust revealing a steaming burst of moisture along with an irresistible aroma of butter, yeast, and flour harmonizing in a splendid creation. While Mathias runs his mouth about his day, Emil takes a seat behind the counter and munches away on his loaf of bread.

"…So then my mom says it's better to just use the same amount of yeast as before because the customers can taste the difference," he goes on. "I guess it means we have a lot of loyal customers."

"That's good," Emil says between bites.

When Mathias finishes stocking the rest of the breads on the shelf, he turns back to the quiet young man barely halfway through his loaf. "So what's new with you? Didja have fun yesterday with you-know-who?"

Emil almost chokes on the piece he is eating. He starts coughing and straining to breathe when it struggles to pass through his esophagus. Mathias, always one to overreact, dashes over and pats his back a little too hard.

"Hang in there, Ice!" he cries. "Lukas will kill me if you die on me!" Emil continues to cough harder than before with near animosity as Mathias starts to panic.

"G-Gah! I'll go get some milk!" he tells him in a loud voice. "Hold on!" He disappears into the back and brings out a glass of milk. There is milk spilling onto the floors, but all Mathias can think about is preventing Emil from choking to death.

Not one to refuse anything when Mathias is in a state of panic, Emil immediately takes the glass and begins to down it. The milk moistens the bread in his throat and allows the rest of the contents to slide down into his stomach. After a few more sips, his coughing subsides, and Mathias calms down.

"Hoo!" he breathes out with puckered lips. "Oh, man, Ice, I thought you were a goner."

Emil wrinkles his nose, exasperated. "It takes a lot more than that to kill someone," he grumbles and takes even smaller bites of his remaining bread.

"Eh, sorry about that," Mathias apologizes. "Now what was I saying again? Hm…Oh, yeah! About Le—I mean, you-know-who!"

Emil nearly chokes again at the sudden mention of Leon's name. It is a good thing there is not anyone else in the front portion of the bakery, although Emil wishes Mathias was not so loud.

"We just hung out at Retro," Emil tells him. "Nothing much. Just went to a restaurant and talked. We went to the midway and Antenna, too."

Mathias smiles. "That's nice. Your brother doesn't let me take him anywhere."

Emil raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that because you guys are always busy?"

"Maybe," the baker laughs. "But it sounds like you had fun."

"Yeah." He cannot disagree to that.

"So when are you going to bring him over to your house?"

Emil swallows. "He already knows where I live, actually," he hesitantly says.

Mathias' eyes grow as wide as golf balls. "Oh, so he's _that_ kind of person."

"What kind of person…?" Emil mutters under his breath so he does not have to answer. "Uh, anyway, he wants to come over, too. Work just gets in the way, and he told me he has troubles with his father." The word feels funny rolling off his tongue like a prickly barb. The further he thinks into it, he realizes Leon has never referred to Yao Wang as his real father. "Old man" is as far as he ever gets with him. There are bound to be more than one reason why that is the case. After all, Emil's father was different than Lukas', but Lukas still addressed him as "Father."

"Huh." Mathias pulls back his arms to stretch. "I think it's cool having someone famous bein' yer soul mate. You can do a lot of things with the rich, y'know."

"Yeah, but does that mean you'll ever be happy?"

"Sorry?"

Emil shakes his head and presses his lips onto his bread. There is only a little left. "Nothing," he mutters. "It's not important."

* * *

There is no music on the set as the man wearing a ragged tunic comes at him in a full sprint. His nostrils flare like an enraged bull charging at the red cape that is Leon's blood red robe. Without any strings attached or any props, the young actor grips his staff in clenched hands and waits for the right moment to strike.

He spots an opening. His legs are bent in a horse stance, and his shoulders are arched back for support against anything that will come his way. He waits and watches the tip of the spear with his glowing eyes.

And then…!

His opponent cuts through the open air when Leon slips past his thrust. The main actor sweeps his foot underneath in a cutting grind and trips the man up. He falls onto the ground in a cloud of dust like a deflated balloon when Leon springs on him and jabs his weapon into the earth. Seeing that the metal cut into the soil, he backs up and jumps as a spear nearly strikes his ankles. The air is tense like the very room is holding its breath. All around, spectators and crewmembers watch from a safe distance, sweat beading down their necks and noses in the heat of simply witnessing the two fight. There are no special effects added, no prewritten scripts. None of this is staged. This is real.

Leon grunts when the spear jabs straight at his eyes but misses its mark when he kicks it away with his foot. His opponent is fast, but not fast enough. He has trained all his life for moments like these, and in his youth, his strength and speed are at their peak. They continue slashing through the air, barely managing to get any attacks on each other. When they do succeed, the blood is real. The pain is genuine. Leon can imagine his cousins grimacing every time he stumbles, but the injuries are few and far in between.

Finally, he sees an opening. His opponent is starting to slow. His blocks are not as well-timed, and his footwork lags. Seizing the opportunity, Leon springs up in a vault with his staff and shoots his body over the other man. In a fraction of a second, he becomes stunned at his bountiful strength, and then he kicks out. His shoe lands into something not quite soft but not quite hard. As he lands back on the ground, Leon has not so much as broken a sweat. He is in full concentration mode. His eyes are trained to keep a lock on his opponent until the very moment he cannot stand anymore.

His opponent stands, shaken but not seriously injured. Their fight continues. A trail of wind blows past Leon's bangs when his opponent's spear swings down. Leon has been watching his movements for the past few minutes of their fight. Calculating the path of the arch, he tucks his foot underneath the spear right at the edge of the spearhead and pushes it up against the upper body strength of the other man. He then latches on with his bent ankle and yanks it straight out of the man's hand, sending the spear flying off into the background. Unarmed, the man resorts to using his fists, but it only takes a few swings, a skillfully pinpointed kick, and a thrust with Leon's palms before the man shoots onto the ground. In a final turn of the tides, he points his staff at the man lying on his back. The sharpened point is millimeters from puncturing into his blood vessels. One faulty move, and it will all be over.

Suddenly—

"Okay, cut!" the director shouts. Leon immediately withdraws his spear and relaxes his expression. He still has not broken a sweat, but he goes for a drink from the watering station. Meanwhile the supporting actor behind his is getting his wounds attended to, cracking a joke about how strong the rising star is.

Kasem hands Leon a water bottle and a towel when he approaches with a smile.

"Thanks, Kasem," he breathes and dampens his towel, putting the cloth over his neck and drinking the rest of the water in a few seconds flat.

"You were great out there, Leon!" his cousin beams.

Leon chuckles and swings his head back. "What do you expect? I was born for this stuff."

"I think if you wanted to, you could have broken his spear instead," Kasem recommends an alternative. "We can do the fight over again and see if we can somehow set that up."

"No two fights are the same, Kasem," Leon says. "That thing I did with my leg can't be done in a formula. It has to just come to me."

"Improvising as always," a new voice sighs. Kasem and Leon look over to see it is Kiku back from the office with his electronic clipboard always at the ready.

"Hey, Kiku," Leon greets him.

"Hi, Kiku!" Kasem smiles.

"Hello to both of you," the agent bows. In Leon's mind, Kiku has always been something of an oddball. His politeness is the same as Cheng's, but he as an odd set of tastes and emotions that set them clearly apart—not to mention, their heights are clearly mismatched.

"You got a message from my old man?" Leon asks.

"Er, yes," the agent reluctantly answers. "It's more of a situation rather than an order."

Leon raises a thick eyebrow. "Well? Tell us."

Kiku looks through his clipboard. "Word of mouth says Im Yong Soo is flying to Eliatha next week."

"Oh, fuck me," Leon curses and snaps his towel from his neck. "You're serious?"

To his aggravation, his agent nods with closed lips. Leon curses again.

"That damn guy," he seethes through his teeth. "What the fuck can he get from coming here? Wait." He grabs Kiku's clipboard without permission and scans through the files in search of any confirmation. When Kiku pulls away, he looks up into his dull brown eyes. "He's not coming here on a contract, is he?"

Kiku does not give him a straight answer as he is bowing his head. It has something to do with his innate culture. "I don't know the full details about why he is coming here, but when I can confirm it, I'll tell you as soon as I can."

"Shit," Leon snaps. "Of all the times…" But his temper passes as quickly as it comes. "No matter. If it's a contract he wants, then it's a contract he'll get. I'll get him out. His taste in hobbies is disgusting, anyway."

Kiku can both agree. Kasem is rather neutral on the matter.

"Leon! We're rolling back on set!" the director calls from the far end of the backdrop.

"Be right there!" Leon calls to him. "Augh, my old man's going to get it tonight."

While he returns to the set, Kasem and Kiku talk about Leon's habits as of late—mainly about the mysterious Emil Steilsson that he is hiding from Yao.

"Kasem, about your little thing with Emil," Kiku brings up, "what do you know about him?"

"He's a nice kid," he smiles with a soft glow. It is hard to tell if he is ever being serious unlike Cheng, who is always appropriately adjusting to the mood of any given situation. Kiku does not know where he falls, himself.

"Er, well, Leon told you not to tell Yao about him, correct?"

Kasem just laughs it off. "Leon has his reasons. Besides, I don't see anything wrong with the kid. Neither does Lien."

"Not Lien either?" Kiku wonders aloud. "Hmm. That's fine. I tried to get some information out of Cheng, but he isn't saying anything about it."

"Oh, we saw Cheng at Dragon a few week ago," Kasem replies a little off the topic.

"You did?" the agent blinks.

"He was with some business partners," Kasem explains.

"I see. Well, then…" He clears his throat. "It's rare for Leon to want us to keep something from Yao like this. I think we can trust his intentions enough. If Lien thinks this Emil is a nice person, then there shouldn't be anything wrong."

Kasem wears a different smile than before. "You can say he's a friend of Leon's. It's nice seeing him truly smiling for a change. We really don't want to take that away."

"A friend you say?" Kiku places his hand over his lips. "That's interesting." He looks over at Leon who is trying to poise his fighting stance for a crack at his opponent's spear. Sure enough, as Kasem recommended, he kicks up his arms, stuns him with a blow in the chest, seizes his fists, and puts his foot through the stake and straight into the man's face again. Even from their distance, it is obvious that there is a trail of blood flying out of the man's nose and possibly mouth. The crewmembers wait on the set with held breaths until he falls to the ground before the director immediately cuts the shot. Then, the medics rush over to tend to the actor's wounds. Leon frantically apologies over and over again, though Kiku knows he only means it to be polite. Soon after, he returns to Kasem and the agent only to see that they have fallen silent.

"Hey, so, like, what were you guys talking about just now?" he asks.

Kiku and Kasem give each other momentary glances before splitting off into opposite directions. Leon decides to trail after Kasem first.

"Yo, Kasem, what's up? Something go wrong with the way I broke the spear?"

"You could have done that without breaking his teeth in," Kasem uncomfortably tells him. "Try not to do that next time."

Leon brushes away his bangs. "Yao's the one who wanted to limit special effects," he grumbles. "It's not like it was my fault that guy wasn't watching where my foot was going. He could have blocked it before I hit his face."

"Not everyone's born a star like you, Leon," Kasem reminds him. He is not Cheng, but in serious times, he can play the role of a sensible family man.

"Right," the young actor scoffs. "So, like, are we done here?"

"I…" Kasem looks over at Kiku who has just finished talking with the director. When he looks back at them, he gives a little wave to signal the end of the filming session. "Looks like you're done, Leon," he says. "Now you can go back to your room."

But Leon smirks. "As if. Getting a night to myself doesn't happen every day." He takes out his phone and starts digging through applications. It is well into the evening on a weekend. He feels like doing something fun.

"Leon?" his cousin starts. "You're not thinking of..."

"What?" he innocently responds. "You didn't hear anything, Kasem. Er, like, you're off for the day. Go do something with, like, Lien or whatever." He hurries and grabs his things before heading out the door. Kasem thinks that there is something important he needs to tell Leon before leaving; however, as soon as his distant cousin disappears out of the main doors, he forgets what he means to tell him.

* * *

This night is like any other. It has been a comfortable week without ever hearing Leon Wang's name being mentioned around the house. Lukas' temperament is doing better now that Emil is going about his days like normal. Neither he nor Mathias knows about Emil's second outing with Leon when he traveled to Volt.

Tonight, Mathias is visiting Emil and Lukas' residence after a long day at his family's bakery. The evening goes by as normal as Lukas first makes an antagonizing attempt to kick Mathias out before his brother steps in. They always end up making too much fish stew every time their noisy guest pops by for a visit. There will be leftovers tomorrow for breakfast.

"I swear, this is all because your stomach decides to act up at the worst possible moments," Lukas snaps when he is putting the lukewarm stew into a container.

Mathias' laughter fills the entire house while he is washing the dishes with Emil. "It's because your eyes give my stomach butterflies, Lukas."

Emil makes a disgusted face, pulling his lips into a deep frown and creasing his light-colored eyebrows. "Good butterflies or bad ones?"

"Would it makes sense if I said both?"

"No," the brothers grunt in unison.

Mathias continues to chat on about a new type of bread his family is thinking about making: a bread specifically designed to appeal to Emil's taste, which catches his attention.

"Are you serious?" Emil looks over at the baker. "A puffin bread?"

"How uncute," Lukas murmurs. He was never one to particularly find puffins adorable like his brother.

"Yeah!" Mathias waves his arms around. It proves to be a big mistake as he gets soapy dishwater all over the floors and onto Emil's shirt. Lukas hits his so-called friend on the back of his thick skull with a silicon ladle. "Ow!" he cries. "Lukas, that hurt!"

"Oops, my hand slipped," he spaciously responds, moving his eyes back to the stew pot.

Emil lets out an irritated sigh and tries to finish up as fast as he can. The sooner he cleans everything, the sooner he can shut himself in his room.

"So about the bread," Mathias continues on, "we were thinking about stuffing the inner part with crème and coating the black parts with some chocolate shelling to appeal to the kids. What d'ya think, Ice?"

Emil does not know what to say without getting a negative reaction from his brother. If he says the idea is stupid, Lukas will sneer at Mathias. If he says he likes the idea, Lukas will make a ghostly laugh. In the end, he tells Lukas' friend to go for it.

"Huh," Lukas clicks his tongue. "You would think it's a good idea, Ice."

"There's nothing wrong with a new menu item," Emil frowns. Honestly, sometimes the way his brother and Mathias butt heads gets on his nerves.

"That's great, Ice!" Mathias exclaims, tossing more suds onto the floor. He receives another strike on the head. "Hey, since it's the weekend, d'you wanna come by the bakery tomorrow? You can be our taste tester!"

"Forget it, Ice," Emil's brother hisses. "You'll get bloated on unhealthy sugars and fats."

"My family's breads aren't bad!" the baker shouts in more of a whine than of anger. Emil senses a tantrum coming on. He hurries up with the last of the dishes. "In fact, you always eat the honey cakes I make for you all the ti—_mryyaahh!_"

"Cut it out!" Emil snaps at the two of them. He has had it up to a near breaking point with those who. "I am _not_ going to start my weekend off witnessing a murder in the house! Can't you two cool it?!"

"Give!" Mathias chokes as Lukas' grip on his tie tightens. "Give, Luk—! I give…!" To Emil's relief, his brother lets go of his tie and storms off to put the stew away.

"My gosh, you two…" Emil sighs and dries off his hands. He is done with his chores for the day. Eager to get a head start on a paper, he starts to make his way to his room when the buzzer at the front goes off. Someone is at the door.

"What the…?" he mouths and begins to move to the front. "Who could that be?"

"Must be the neighbors throwing a complaint about the volume again," Lukas sighs. "Ice, will you go answer it, please?"

"On it," he replies and unlocks the door without checking. When it opens, he prepares an apology and looks the visitor in the eyes…and freezes.

"Yo."

Emil's mouth turns dry. His heartbeat quickens as the recognizable image of the panda hood lifts over the visitor's head. He sees a smirk and a pair of iconic golden eyes he has been trying to avoid all this time. In his silence, he barely hears his brother coming over to see what is taking so long. When he reaches the front, he, too, stops dead in his tracks. There is a definite aura of malice about, one that even Mathias in the back cannot dispel.

"Hey," Leon smiles and sticks his hand out beyond Emil's shoulder. He can feel the air freezing in place. "You must be Ice's brother, right? I'm Leon Wang. Nice to meet you."

Lukas does not shake his hand. Emil cannot move.

"Okay…?" Leon withdraws his hand and tucks it back into his pocket as if to warm it up after being left in the cold. He thinks that with all the noise, there has to be more than two people in the house, and sure enough, the third person joins them in the front. His notices this other person has a considerable amount of muscles showing from his thin sweater and a wide jaw to support his loud voice. His hairstyle and wide smile distantly reminds Leon of Kasem, but Kasem, he thinks, has a softer heart than this goofy character of a person. How he is related to Emil is a mystery to him. It does not hurt to ask.

"Um, so…like…" He kicks the ground with a heel. "…You gonna introduce me, Ice?"

His friend's pale lips are visibly pressed together in a form of reluctance. Emil's lilac eyes wander to the side until his head follows back to the tall wild-haired figure in the back. For an awkward moment, nobody speaks until Emil manages to get his voice working again.

"U-Uh…" His voice is dry and stale like he just came back after screaming at a concert. He runs his delicate pink tongue over his lips and tries again. "Th-This is Lukas Bondevik, Leon. He's my brother. And this person…" He shifts his attention over to the other man. "…is my brother's soul mate, Mathias Køhler."

Leon's brain has to rewind that last bit in his head and play it over again. Funny, he thinks. He swears Emil said this tall, muscular man is his ghostly brother's soul mate.

The numbers do not match up in his mind. It is one thing for him to be stuck with Emil, but for such an odd pair to be together is something he will have to work on adjusting to. It is very curious how life works. Some call it luck, and there are others who call it destiny or fate. Whatever the case is here, the fact remains staring him straight in the face. It is irrefutable and inescapable in every right: Lukas' soul mate is also a guy.

* * *

_I have a paper and other things I need to manage on dA so updates may or may not be slowing down for a while. I know that when my spring break comes around (March 21 - March 30), I'm going to be completely inactive. I'm honestly surprised I was able to push six chapters out until now, but I'm really grateful for all the lovely words you all have been giving me, readers. Thank you very much, everyone, even to all you ghost readers out there. It's been a real treat being able to write this story without following the pressures of my dA identity. *Laughs* _


	7. VII

Lukas Bondevik does not pay any attention to the children at play. The teachers have always referred to him as a troubled boy. After his father passed away, his mother was fortunate enough to find someone else to share her world with. He soon became an older brother to a fascinatingly fair-haired boy. Emil Steilsson, he was named. He did not quite understand the feeling, but he soon felt inclined to be there for his little brother. Emil was such a fragile thing to come into this world without any idea of how it worked. Lukas was already prone to seeing death, violence, and sickness. If possible, he wants to protect his dear brother from such horrors of the world. He desperately wants him to grow up in a place where he would never have to fear such things.

But for now, here at his local elementary school, leaning against a lone fence, he blankly stares at his hand and curls his fingers into a closed fist. He then reopens his hand up like a large alien-like flower breathing and blooming with fingers for petals. He repeats this process over and over again, passing the time until the bell signals the end of recess. This process also repeats on a day-by-day basis.

What is this concept called "love," he wonders? Is it possibly the feeling that he experiences towards his brother? Perhaps it is also what his mother feels towards his new father. He has seen the way they hold each other in their arms with a gentle expression that puts him at ease. While he does not feel anything when they offer him contact comfort, Lukas understands that this must be a positively enforced feeling. He enjoys it while he can.

The children run past him, never so much as glancing at him. He is like a ghost, they say. He hears them whispering behind his back about how his cold blue eyes stare off into space.

Let them, he thinks. He will not need their attention. His time is coming sooner than all of them.

Lukas' case is significant. There are others like him, but there are very few people whose watches hit their zeros at such a young age. He has already done the math. He will be ten years, one month, twelve days, and about nine hours old when he will find the one—his other.

His mother's current husband, his new father, never had a watch, but he thinks it must be fate that brought them together: a woman whose soul mate passed away being together with a man without any numbers at all. His parents are happy, so Lukas tells himself to feel the same way. He tries for his family, his brother especially.

When he thinks on it, the thought of having his other being so close fills him with both excitement and anticipation. He will have someone who is completely compatible with him for the rest of his life, yet at the same time, it means he might distance himself from his brother. These thoughts haunt him until the last day before his numbers will turn into zeros.

On his designated day, his mother takes him to a family bakery. She faintly remembers her son's watch stopping at a young age, but Lukas believes she never remembered the exact day her son will meet the person that will change his life forever.

Hand in hand, they walk along the clean-cut sidewalk to pick up a little coffee cake, a reward for Lukas receiving perfect scores on his grades this school year. He asks his mother if they will be able to share the cake with Emil. She tells him that it is not good for toddlers to eat anything with coffee, so Lukas says he will get a dark chocolate cake, instead. He knows his brother is fond of bittersweet foods, and dark chocolate comes the closest next to coffee. His mother pats his head and tells him what a thoughtful brother he is for thinking of Emil.

At the bakery, Lukas browses the selection of breads. There are little tarts and flaky croissants wrapped in cellophane. There is a picture of a fox and a rabbit on each one. Lukas thinks his brother will enjoy the little pictures and asks his mother if he can buy some additional treats to share. She smiles and tells him he may pick two of anything so as long as it is not a large cake.

* * *

Somewhere at the same time, a young boy barely into his teens is complaining to his mother for taking out the breads. He wants to go outside because his watch is going to stop soon. His mother only tells him that he will meet the right one wherever he is. Location does not matter. Time does.

Grumbling, he takes the trays of packaged breads out to the front of the store to restock. Being born in a family of bakers, he has memorized all of the locations for all the bread. He starts at the front where the baguettes are and slowly moves down towards the glass casing where there are dried fruit tarts and chocolate-filled cornets. All the while, he makes sure to check his watch from time to time, keeping an eye on the door for a pretty girl to walk in.

Questions float around in his head as he sets the breads down. Will she be nice? How does he look? Will they like each other at first glance? Did he remember to brush his teeth this morning?

He checks his ruby watch with golden numbers. Forty-two seconds left and counting. She is going to come through that door in less than a minute. He walks down the aisle to the crème-filled buns. He wonders if perhaps he should offer a custard bun when they first meet. If they are going to be soul mates, she must like bread, too.

* * *

Lukas is growing impatient. He is busy looking at his sapphire-engraved watch with silver numbers. Less than thirty seconds. His head turns towards the door where he suspects a young girl around his age will walk inside. He wonders if perhaps he should be courteous and offer to buy her something. There is no doubt that there has to be a reason they are meeting in a place like a bakery.

His mother suddenly calls him over to pay for the breads. Lukas stays put for a few more seconds. His eyes are still watching the door when he finally decides it is best to go. As he backs up towards the counter, his eyes are still glued to the entrance.

* * *

Ten more seconds. He can count aloud if he wants. There are only the custard buns to restock. His sky-blue eyes are focused completely on the door. He knows his family's bakery in and out like the back of his hand so he does not pay attention to where he is going—or to the child he is about to run into.

* * *

Five…Four…Three. Two.

"One."

* * *

The door never opens. Instead, he feels a large force push him over when something in the front bumps into his tray. The cellophane-wrapped buns scatter to the floor, and the young teen immediately apologizes. When he looks down at the person he ran into, he sees a light blonde head of hair on a fair-skinned girl. His mouth hangs open at what lovely sapphire eyes she has in contrast to her pale eyelashes and thin-lined lips. Her hair is styled in a short, wavy cut with her right side of her head concealed behind growing bangs, and her left is clipped together with a cross-shaped hairpin. She looks beautiful.

"A-Ah…" he gapes. "I'm so sorry about that." He reaches out for her to take his hand, but she silently withdraws and tears her eyes away. She looks at the door. Then, she pulls out a blue crystal pocket watch and looks at it. Her numbers, he sees, have reached zero. She is the one.

"Um..." He tries to get her attention. "Hey, um, are you looking for me?"

The girl looks back at him for a quick second with a definite look of confusion in her eyes. Her thin eyebrows are scrunched together, and while it is not a pretty look for her doll-like face, he thinks it gives her character.

Since she does not say anything, the boy takes out his ruby pocket watch and shows it to her. Her eyes grow as wide as sapphire marbles when he explains.

"Our watches stopped at the same time," he smiles. "I'm Mathias Køhler. What's your name?"

The girl remains silent. Her eyes are still wide and her lips are trembling. She must be shy, the boy thinks. He wonders how this will work out for the two of them. Suddenly, a woman, the girl's mother, he suspects, calls her child over.

"Lukas?" she says. "Lukas, what's taking so long?"

Mathias freezes. "Lukas?" That is a boy's name. But surely if this is a boy, something must be wrong. And he thought…

"Don't touch me," the quiet one hisses. Now that this "Lukas" has spoken, Mathias notices his voice is a little deep for a girl's. Girl or boy, the child runs to the counter clutching two chocolate-filled breads and returns to whom Mathias suspects is his mother.

"Lukas, I thought you wanted to hurry home," his mother says, patting his head. "What's gotten into you?" Her son clings to her coat and looks back at Mathias like he is some sort of frightening monster. His eyes suddenly grow cold with an alien-like gaze, and he refuses to speak.

Mathias, speechless from the realization, now remembers his voice and calls out to the boy.

"Wait!" he cries, running to him and holding up a custard bun. "Lukas, right?" he says. "That's your name, isn't it?"

The trembling boy's mother looks down at her son with an inquiring look. "Lukas, do you know this boy? Is he a classmate?"

"Mother, don't…" her son whispers, clutching to her coat with a tighter grip.

"What's gotten into you, Lukas? You're usually not this shy."

"Mathias, what are you doing?" his mother asks, leaning over the counter. "Aren't you supposed to be restocking?"

Mathias vigorously shakes his head. "Mom, this is my friend!" He beams at the shy boy. "Right, Lukas?"

Lukas does not say anything. He occasionally looks at him but quickly buries his face into his mother's coat. "Mother…" he mutters. "Can we go now? My stomach hurts…"

"Lukas?" The boy's mother looks down. "Wait a minute, do you or do you not know this boy?"

"Miss, we're going to be best friends," Mathias beams. He holds out his pocket watch with its numbers all at zeros. Both mothers stare at the watch and then look over to Lukas.

"Lukas?" his mother quietly coos to her son. She strokes his head and lifts his chin up so she can see his eyes. He is crying.

"Lukas, dear, did your watch stop?" she asks in a gentle voice. She takes out a handkerchief from her pocket and wipes his damp eyes. "Lukas, let me see your watch."

Her son does not immediately obey her. He sniffs and wipes his eyes with his sleeve before rummaging for his sapphire pocket watch. He does not look at her or at anyone else when he hands it over. All of the numbers are at zeros.

Lukas' mother does not say anything for a moment. She looks at her son, then at the baker's boy. Mathias is looking expectantly at the two of them as if he wants them to say something to him. All the while, Mathias' mother is watching over them without saying a word.

"Oh, Lukas, dear," she whispers, rubbing his shoulders to comfort him. "It's okay, darling. We can go home if you want. Emil and Father are waiting, aren't they?" She turns her attention to Mathias before apologizing.

"I'm sorry for this, but is it alright if you see my son another time? This is a little difficult for him."

"S-Sure…" Mathias' voice trails off.

Lukas' mother gives him a small smile. "Mathias, was it?"

The baker's son nods.

"It's nice to meet you," she says. "I really apologize about making a scene."

"Oh, no, not at all," Mathias' mother cuts in. "My son can be a little scatterbrained, and when he does, he says things he's not supposed to. He means well, though."

"I believe you," Lukas' mother lightly laughs. She hurries and pays for the breads before apologizing once again. Then, she pats her son's head and asks him if he can walk. When he silently nods, they thank the baker and begin to leave. Mathias, however, holds them back one final time.

"Wait, Lukas," he says to the boy still hiding his face in his mother's coat. "Please take this." He holds up the custard bun his hand is still clutching. "You look like yer hungry. I thought maybe you'd like this."

"That's very sweet of you, Mathias," Lukas' mother smiles. She gestures for her son to look at the gift he is offer. "Lukas, look. This boy is trying to give you something. Won't you be nice and take it?"

Lukas quietly removes his face from her side and stares with puffy eyes at the messy-haired boy. He takes the custard bun with caution and mutters a small "Thanks" before retreating his body into his mother's side again.

"No problem!" Mathias beams, glad that he accepted his gift. "If ya ever need more, just tell me!"

"Oh, Mathias, you…" his mother sighs. "Come back here and get to work."

"Coming, Mom!" he calls back. "And, Lukas, I'll see you again, okay?" He cannot be sure that the quiet boy replies, but as he watches the two walk down the street, he has a feeling that whether tomorrow, a week, or a month from now, they will definitely be seeing each other again.

* * *

"Let's try this again. I'm Mathias Køhler. I'm your soul mate."

Lukas utters a poisonous growl that makes the nervous teen withdraw his hand. This scenario is no better than trying to shake hands with a venomous snake.

"Eh heh heh…" he nervously chuckles with small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. "You have any hobbies? Any siblings, maybe? I heard your mom saying something about an 'Emil.' Is he your brother?"

No response. Mathias tries to make the best of the time they have together. To Lukas, understandably, it feels like he is being put in a daycare. His mother dropped him off at the Køhler's bakery (that also happens to be an extension of their house) in order to spend some time with his new other, as he calls Mathias.

"What do you like to do for fun?" Mathias tries asking. "There's gotta be something you like to do."

Lukas shuts his eyes and turns his nose up. To most people, he is acting like a spoiled child, but Mathias persists and continues to talk.

"Ya know, I kinda like having you around," he laughs, scratching his head. Lukas moves his eyes over to him in silent wonder, thinking about how he must style his hair like that. "My mom and dad make me work all day, but since you're around, I get to just hang out with you. Or maybe that's it!" He jumps up and leans close to Lukas, a little _too _close.

"Get away from me," Lukas grunts and pushes his hands out. He means to drive Mathias away with his cold exterior. It works on everyone else around him, and he is sure that in time, this talkative idiot will give up and leave him alone. He wants to forget that he ever met this person. Because of him, his entire life is ruined. He will never know what it means to have that "warm, fuzzy feeling" his parents get when they hold one another. He will never experience the sensation of lying in the same bed together and lulling each other to sleep with little jokes and smiles and kisses. This is all Mathias' fault.

But to his surprise, Mathias just grins. "Oh! I got you to say something!" he says. Lukas cannot understand if he knows how serious he is with this matter. "Hey, Lukas, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see how my parents work."

Lukas only blinks.

"How was the custard bun I gave you? Didja eat it? Was it good?"

Lukas bitterly squeezes his hands together and holds himself back from hitting this boy. He does not know why, but this person brings out an unusual violent urge to his hands. He wants nothing more than to hit this boy with everything he has. But he has to remind himself that he is a guest in someone else's house. His mother will yell at him if he misbehaves. So, for the time being, he holds himself together and bears with the blabbering for a little while longer.

"Eliatha to Lukas, did you eat the bread I gave you? How was it? Sweet? Creamy? Soft?"

All of those things, Lukas thinks. He ate the bread, not because it was from Mathias, but because he was hungry this morning and had nothing else to eat. The bread was soft, and the filling was not too runny or too thick. The custard was not bad, but it was the sweetest thing he had ever eaten in his life. That was a problem.

"It was too sweet," he finally speaks.

"It was too sweet!" Mathias repeats. Lukas throws a dark expression his way. He wonders how in the world this guy is three years older than him.

"Mom!" Mathias yells down the stairs. "Lukas said the custard buns are too sweet!"

Lukas hisses through his teeth. Mathias might as well let the entire world know about his opinions. His mouth is unnecessarily large for his stature.

"Oh, oh!" he excitedly breathes. "I've got an idea! How about I show you how to make them! We'll make new ones! You can see how we do everything, Lukas! An' my mom won't get mad at me! Let's go! Doncha wanna see?"

His soul mate is not in a position of enthusiasm. He looks bored like one of those loners that hang around the edge of the walls during lunchtime. Mathias does not want Lukas to be like that. He wants to know more about him and find out what makes him smile. Above all else, he wants to be his friend.

"Lukas, let's go," he urges him to no success. "C'mon, man. It'll be fun. Food always tastes better after you make it yerself. Let's go, Lukas!"

It takes a while to get him to budge. Finally, Lukas gets up when Mathias tells him he can go home when the custard buns are finished.

"The dough's already made because we had to get it to rise," Mathias explains when he dons an apron. He lends Lukas a spare one and instructs him to wash his hands and flour them off once dry. "It's ta prevent the dough from sticking," he explains. "We want yer hands to be nice and smooth so everything gets baked." He looks over to his parents who are busy braiding raisin bread and glazing cornets with egg wash. "Mom, Dad, Lukas an' I are going to make the custard buns, okay?"

"That's fine, son," his father chuckles and gets back to work.

Mathias immediately sets to work on forming the round shapes with Lukas at his side. He teaches him how to properly roll his sleeves up so they will not get flour on them, and he shows him exactly how to get perfectly round shapes by curling them together and kneading with the balls of their palms.

Lukas soon proves to be an inefficient worker since he lacks the physical upper body strength Mathias and his family has. He was never prone to preforming hard labor in his ten years of living, and he is not about to start subjecting himself to hard work during his first play date with Mathias.

After a while, he eventually gives up and lets Mathias finish off the rest of the mounds. Mathias' mother laughs and jokes about him being too pretty and thin for hard labor like baking.

"Perhaps you can do the decorating for the cakes," she suggests. "We can always use a helper for that."

"But I wanna show him how to make these!" Mathias whines. Lukas scowls when he sees how immature this teen is with his parents. He wonders if it has something to do with being a single child all his life. Then again, even before Emil was born, he never acted out of line.

"Just make sure Lukas isn't sitting around," Mr. Køhler says as he puts the raisin bread into the oven. "He looks bored out of his mind."

"Really?" Mathias blinks. "I thought he just always looked like that."

Lukas rolls his eyes and decides to see how his supposed other makes the custard filling.

"I think for you, the custard filling is the stuff that's too sweet, right?" Mathias assumes. Lukas does not know how to give a verbal answer and merely nods. "Okay, so we'll just use less sugar. First, you need to use a lot of milk and cream. We'll use…a fourth less sugar, maybe? That should be enough."

Lukas watches in silence as Mathias pours an entire bag of sugar into a large stainless steel bowl complete with an automated whisk and mixer. Then, he prepares a separate bowl of eggs, asking Lukas to help him separate the yolks from the whites.

"It's fine if you get some whites into the yolks, but if some yolk gets into the whites, we can't use that," Mathias warns him. "Just do this motion with the eggs. You'll get the hang of it." He makes it look easy when he separates the egg whites from the yolks with such precision and speed. Lukas thinks it should be easy and tries to crack his egg through the middle just like Mathias does. However, the egg splits down in a diagonal pattern and nearly causes him to drop the entire yolk into the bowl of whites.

"Whoops!" Mathias laughs. "That's not the way to do it. Want me to show you again?"

Lukas shakes his head. He still hides himself from talking. When he does this, he feels someone patting him hard on the back.

"Lukas, kid," Mr. Køhler laughs in a booming voice, "you've gotta learn to communicate in the kitchen. That's the only way things get done. How's Mathias supposed to know you need anything if you never tell him?"

A hot wash of shame runs through Lukas' cheeks. He wants to keep quiet, but that only means subjecting himself to the silent treatment. He really is the one being immature here, he realizes. Mathias is just trying to be nice. Even though he also knows his other is a boy, he is making the best out of the situation. The last time he even came into the bakery, he said they were going to be the best of friends. He really has been the fool in this unfortunate twist of events.

"M-Mathias…"

Everyone stops working when they hear Lukas' low voice in the kitchen.

"Oh! What's up, Lukas?" Mathias smiles as wide as always. He shares the same loud voice and wide smile as his father, Lukas notices, but his hair and eye color match those of his strong-willed mother. He is a nice kid from a nice family. There really is no reason for him to be so shut-off from these people. Because of that, it gives Lukas a little courage.

With lips pressed and eyes cowering to the ground, he looks in the direction of the wild-haired teen and asks him for instructions. "Can you tell me how to crack the egg?"

His temporary icy wall melts when Mathias delivers a heartwarming smile. "Sure can, buddy!" Lukas watches as he takes and egg and taps the middle of the shell on the edge of the mixing bowl. "The trick is to strike on the end with a quick, confident hit," he explains. "You've gotta be quick. If you hesitate, yer just going to end up with two bad shells." He laughs. "There's actually a way to cheat, but it's really messy."

Mathias' mother chuckles. "Don't teach him that way, Mathias. He needs to know how to do it properly."

"It's just for beginners," Mathias says and goes ahead and cracks his egg. Lukas watches as he dumps the whites from one end into the bowl and pours the other half of the contents into his hand. Then, he lefts the egg whites ooze down from his fingers and into the bowl, all while keeping the yolk in tact.

"This is actually tricky, too," he sheepishly grins. "If you burst the egg yolk in cracking process, you can't do this."

Lukas watches with keen eyes until he decides to try again. Much to his delight, when he cracks it down the first time, it splits down the middle in a perfect trail.

"That's it!" his mentor exclaims. "You did it! Now lemme see you separate 'em."

With slow motions, Lukas tries to move the yolk from one shell to the other, but when he thinks he is about to finish, the slippery orange sphere slips from his grip and plops straight into the bowl of whites.

"Sorry," he quietly apologizes, his face steaming with embarrassment.

"It's okay," Mathias assures him and fishes the yolk out with a ladle. "We all make mistakes—except me because I'm good at everything."

From the corner of his eyes, Lukas thinks he sees Mathias' parents shaking their heads in amusement.

They continue to make the custard while Mathias' father finishes glazing all of the breads and putting them into the oven. In the entire time Lukas watches them, he is amazed at how humans can invest so much energy into making these breads. Just the custard has a tedious process, and the dough for the bread has its own set of rules. The Køhlers are refreshingly devoted and hard-working people. While a little loud for his tastes, he suspects they have something that completes a missing part of himself. This might just be the surface of what his fate had in store for him.

* * *

The unfilled buns are sitting on a cooling rack as steam and a golden glow emits from their mounds. Mathias explains that when they are finished setting, they can fill them with whatever they want: custard, chocolate, crème-filling, fruits, and even sauced meats.

"It's better, too, because you helped make 'em, Lukas," Mathias muffles, his mouth full of his father's braided raisin bread. "Mom and Dad are doing the fillings because they said I put too much, and the stuff falls out into the bags. Customers don't like that."

"Excessive, aren't we?" Lukas remarks with a low voice.

Like everything else with his reactions or remarks, Mathias just laughs it off without a care in the world. "You're really cold, Lukas," he chuckles. "We've gotta fix that." Then he sees how unenthusiastic his is about that suggestion. "Or…I can work around that, too. But something made us stick together because our watches stopped at the same time, so we're staying together, buddy!"

"Fantastic." Though he is only ten years old, Lukas already knows the implications of what it means to be sarcastic. Despite this, Mathias still booms with laughter. He thinks he will have to get used to that if he is going to spend the rest of his life with him—friend or not.

"Boys," Mathias father suddenly calls, "the custard buns are ready!" He sets them on a tray. Some of them are wrapped for stocking, while others are exposed. The ones set out are the ones meant for eating. Mathias takes two, one for Lukas and one for himself.

Mathias sinks his teeth into one end right away, letting the golden filling of cream, eggs, and sugar inside dribble all over his mouth like a savage, ravenous animal. Lukas, disgusted, eats his bread away from him in careful, concentrated bites. He continues this process until he digs into the soft inner core where the custard is found. He remembers making it with Mathias. It had been a tedious process watching the cream to make sure it would not boil over. They also had to crack several eggs and wait for the custard to cool before being able to use it. All of their efforts pay off in these precious bites. He feels warmth rising in his chest as well as his stomach. The bread is delicious. There is noticeably less sugar this time around than the custard he ate this morning, but gathered around the Køhlers and a potential friend, it tastes like the sweetest thing in the world.

* * *

_We get a little bit of back story on how Denmark and Norway met._


	8. VIII

"Wait. Let me get this straight: Lukas and this Mathias guy are seriously soul mates?"

"Seriously," Emil repeats back to him as-a-matter-of-factly. Considering he was roughly three years old at the time, he is not as bothered about the scenario as his friend.

Leon runs his fingers through his dark hair and makes a strange noise that sounds like something between a grunt and a whine. "But…like, they're both guys."

"So are we," his soul mate tells him as it is. He understands that being soul mates with the same gender is one thing but to hear about a different case is another. He never remembers ever mentioning who his brother's soul mate is until this moment. It is understandable that Leon finds it odd.

"Huh." The young pop star's eyebrows are slanted in an asymmetrical tilt; one eyebrow is raised while the other one is bent in a baffled expression. "I never thought there'd be other people like us. It's a small world."

Emil hunches his shoulders. He does not see Lukas and Mathias the way Leon might. To him, Lukas is just his brother, and Mathias is his brother's friend. Since they have known each other for so long, Mathias can practically be considered his other older brother, too.

Suddenly, Leon's unexpected snickering raises some attention. "Oh my gosh." He struggles to suppress his smile and voice. "So Mathias really thought your brother was a girl when they first met? I'll bet he gets that a lot."

"Don't bring that up," his pale-skinned friend warns him with a thinning voice. "He doesn't like it when people that about it."

"No, it's a compliment, Ice," Leon insists. "Guys with feminine looks work well with both women _and _men." He pauses. "Has your brother ever thought about modeling?"

The light in Emil's irises vanishes in an instant. "I'll kill myself before you put us in the same studio," he growls.

Leon cautiously backs up a nudge and puts both hands up. "I was just kidding. He doesn't look compatible with anyone I know. That's a bummer, though. He looks like he'll be good for the business. Mathias, too—"

"Is that all you ever think about?" Emil snaps. He snorts and flops back in his chair. "When I read up on your biography, I didn't know you were an actor, singer, _and _a modeling scout."

"I'm not," his overachieving friend laughs. "I just thought you could use a boost and recommended you to one of my photographers. Which reminds me…" He takes his phone out of his pocket, scans through some applications, and pops open a hologram screen for Emil to see. "Check it out, Ice," he says. "They've finished touching up the photos. You'd be surprised at what a little lightning adjustment can do."

When Emil moves towards the pictures and studies them, he is taken aback at how he looks. He remembers the clothes he was given being fairly simple, but under the correct lighting and shadow masking his negative space, he looks like a professional model—or maybe it was only because Leon was there to make him feel at ease. He is honestly surprised at what a few tricks with cameras can do to make him look this way. His eyes are a glistening shade of soft violets and iridescent amethysts; they bring out the creaminess of his milk-white skin and snow-colored hair, combed into careful partitions along the front of his face. He notices how his lips are slightly parted to give the impression of innocence as Leon mentioned during their photo shoot. If he does not know better, he thinks he does not look half bad.

"W-Wow…" he breathes, otherwise speechless.

"Cool, huh?" Leon flips through some of the other pictures. While he only took a few, the editing and angles bring out an interesting character of Emil that fascinates even himself. He wonders what sorts of media he can even partake in if given the opportunity. A magazine? For what, he wonders? Probably just for clothes if his pictures ever get that far. He does not need the attention.

"Oh. Another thing," the teenage celebrity brings up, "I also went out of my way to pick up your first paycheck."

Emil blinks, snapping out of his awestruck stupor. "Eh?" He watches, dumbfounded, as Leon pulls a small envelope from his pocket. It is no bigger than the average business card, he sees. When he takes it, he feels something thin and sturdy like an old-styled credit card. Upon opening it, there is a translucent sheet of Plastichip, a material as sturdy and flexible as plastic but able to perform the functions of most Tekniq Era phones—minus the ability to make phone calls.

"It's on that thing," Leon tells him and taps a small circle on the upper face. A screen pops up from a small nanocamera and reads, "Checking verification…" Knowing this procedure from shopping at the occasional name-brand store, Emil holds up his phone and lets the Plastichip scan his encrypted identification. A blue light scans the surface of his phone, sending out a visible signal, and then, making a soft _ping_, the screen displays, "Verification complete." Then, a list of numbers and heta signs scroll up. Emil reads them, and his mouth drops open.

"No way…" His eyes are stuck on the last figures all in green. While ogling the number stop make sure there are commas where he thinks there might be decimals, his phone utters a soft ringing noise, signaling the heta has been successfully transferred to his account. The numbers do not lie. For those few photos he took, there are five figures reading on the screen.

"It's not really much, but compared to the lower-end models, you really cut yourself a lucky break," Leon yawns. It never fails to stun Emil at how casually he can treat these sorts of things, but he supposes being born and raised in a rich family will have that kind of effect on a person.

Emil wants to say something regarding the paycheck when he hears the sound of the front door opening and two voices bickering downstairs. Lukas and Mathias have returned from their shopping trip. Since popping over unexpectedly, Lukas immediately dragged his friend out to go shopping for something to offer Leon. Emil suspects they went out to talk and cool their heads rather than paying Leon any real courtesy. As far as anyone is concerned, no amount of hospitality can amount to the luxury the teen idol sensation indulges in.

"…This is why I never bring you along, you brainless hedgehog," Lukas' velvety yet toxic voice seethes from below. "Who offers a celebrity beer—and an _underage_ one at that?"

"My folks let me drink when I was sixteen! It's no big deal!" Emil knows that the louder voice belongs to Mathias.

"It _is _a big deal if word gets out that Leon Wang passed through here," the cold viper hisses. "Honestly, your tastes are the worst I've ever seen, hands down."

"But you don't know that many people!"

"And I suspect the only people you know are from your drinking sprees?"

"That's not true! I've been to cocktail parties, too!"

Both teenagers can hear a dark, bubbling growl coming from an icy voice. Lukas sounds like he is ready to explode into a thousand black-stained icicles. Emil knows better than to make things worse. It is actually better to remain where they are and let the two settle their differences themselves.

"Shit, Ice," Leon smirks, raising a thick eyebrow. "They sound like a married couple."

Emil wrinkles his nose. He has been though this song and dance before. "They sound like two friends who've know each other for a little too long."

"How old did you say your brother was?"

"Seven years older than me," he answers. "Lukas is twenty-six. Mathias is twenty-nine. Since their watches stopped when my brother was ten—"

"Holy shit, so they've known each other for almost as long as we've been alive?"

Emil can feel his eyebrows twitching and his lips jerking to the sides. The thought almost amuses him. "When you put it that way, it makes them sound really old."

"…Shut your trap and help me with the damn potatoes," Lukas finally snaps in the kitchen.

"On it, Lukas!" Mathias immediately responds.

While the two are busy, Leon takes some more time to explore Emil's room. Lukas' room and their parents' rooms are off-limits, but Leon was told earlier that he could explore the rest of the house—so as long as he did not get in Lukas' way.

"Your room's pretty plain," Leon comments.

Emil cannot disagree there. Unlike most people his age, his walls are not animated with moving wallpapers or posters expressing his interests. There is a lone shelf stacked with odd figurines and a few pictures. Little else remains to be described. A sliding door opens up to his closet were his clothes are neatly organized by color, material for warmth, and style. His bed has a plain frame with pipe support situated at a wall. When he was a child, Lukas refused to let him put his bed along the windowsill in case a draft gave him a cold. He never moved his bed since. Instead of a bed, there is a desk pushed to face the window. The view is nothing too spectacular since it merely overlooks the other side of fence, which is essentially just the wall of the neighbors' house. All in all, there is nothing to hide or brag about.

"I don't really spend much time worrying about what my room looks like," Emil shrugs and takes a seat on his bed. "Things don't really interest me enough to express my affinity for decorating the place I live in." This makes Leon snicker.

"You've got a weird mindset, Ice," he smiles, covering his eyes with his hand. "Oh, that's rich. I've gotta show you my place one day. I'd do it today, but, your brother looks like he'll poison me just by staring at me, you know."

Amused at Leon's reaction, Emil cracks a smile. "I know."

They fall silent for a moment until a loud metallic clanging sound bangs and echoes from the first floor. Emil and Leon look up in an instant and hear the cracking scream of someone being harassed. That someone happens to be Mathias.

"_Gyah!_ Emil! Save me!" a voice that sounds on the verge of defeat and undying agony cries.

Emil, being used to this behavior in his house, takes his time getting up. Leon eagerly follows behind him, his phone in hand in case the scene is worth recording.

By the time they come to Mathias' rescue, there is already a dented pot…and a dented cranium. A throbbing, blood-clotted bruise marks itself with a contrasting clarity to Mathias' light complexion. While no food was spilt this time around, Emil has a feeling they will have to either buy a new stew pot or settle on using one with a dent. Emil suspects the latter.

"What happened this time?" Emil casually asks his brother who is busy peeling potatoes with the precision and skill of a qualified chef. Leon, himself, is used to seeing his family cook from time to time, though the dexterity of cooks never fails to impress him; he considers himself an advocate of fine foods, after all.

"Mathias happened, that's what," Lukas gruffly answers, peeling potato after potato without batting an eyelash. He appears lost in thought, never bothering to look up from the counter to greet Leon or his own brother, though Emil has a feeling he is doing this on purpose.

Since both teenagers are left with an unsatisfied answer, they turn to Mathias who has since gotten up and off the ground. He makes his way to the freezer and rummages around the shelves, pulling out a chilled ice pack and placing it on his head. Emil recalls having to buy the ice pack just for this kind of occasion. While Mathias is recovering, Emil clicks his tongue and picks up the dented pot.

"Might have to buy a new one," he sighs and examines it. Leon, who is beside him, snickers and takes a photo.

"I can send you a new one if you want," he offers when he pockets his phone.

"Don't bother," Lukas suddenly replies, never looking up from the bowl of potatoes. All of them are peeled at this point. Now all that is left to do is to boil them and season them. It is a simple dish but one that requires just enough attention that Lukas does not have to pay his guest any mind. Even so, Leon attempts to strike up a conversation, clearly unaware of how caustic his soul mate's brother can get.

"So, Lukas," the celebrity starts off, "what do you do for a living?"

Emil nearly says something since he knows Leon already knows, but he stops himself at the last possible second when he realizes this is a conversation starter. To that, he leans back and enjoys the tense show. Luckily for them, Mathias does not appear to be in any position to jump in anytime soon.

"Pharmaceutical assistant," the pharmaceutical assistant blankly answers.

"Emil tells me you just need a little more time before you get your own clinic." Since he used a statement, Lukas does not comment. Leon then follows up with a question. "How long do you have before that happens?"

"One year," another short answer comes his way.

Leon rubs his neck. "Huh. That's not too bad." He tries a different angle of approach. "So, like, did you ever hear about me before your brother…you know…?"

"Never cared for action movies," Lukas answers before he can finish. Emil nearly scowls, but he feels oddly relieved that his brother did not simply answer with a one-worded "No."

"That's fine," Leon chuckles. Unbeknownst to amateur ears, he is faking his lighthearted brushoff. Underneath, the fact that both brothers have never heard of him before meeting Emil still baffles him; it does not necessarily anger or annoy him; he just finds it fascinating that there are still people "behind with the times," as he likes to put it.

In response to Lukas' reply, Leon adds on, "Yeah, my old man's the one who casts me for the roles. You can say I was born into this business since I do my own stunts. I actually just got back from Wang Studio after doing a filming session." He decides at this point that he has talked about himself too much. Any further, and his listeners will think he is gloating. "So, like, have you ever been to Volt?"

Emil's heart jolts. He never told Lukas or Mathias about his trip to Volt. If Leon even so much as implies he was taken there, there will be chaos and bloodshed. He sees that Lukas' back is turned and tilts his head at a slight angle towards Leon. When his friend catches his eyes, he shakes his head just enough so that Mathias cannot detect anything.

Leon understands this and hurries to see if Lukas will make anything of this question, but to both the teenagers' relief, the dead-eyed blonde replies with, "No" and leaves it at that. The conversation drops like a sinking rock until Leon gives up trying to bounce any more questions onto him. He then looks to Mathias.

"Mm, so, like, Mathias, Emil says you've got a bakery that's been in your family for some time?"

Mathias, eager to shoot his mouth off after recovering from his bruise, straightens his posture and proudly wears his iconic smile. Emil often wonders if it is possible to smile hard enough to rip one's jaws clean off. With Mathias' mouth, it seems doable.

"Yeah, it's been in the Køhler family for seven generations!" he grins with a tinge of pride.

Leon raises his eyebrows. "Cool, so does that mean you're going to be taking it over?"

Mathias booms with laughter. "Sure looks that way. My dad says I'm the best baker he's ever taught."

"You're the _only _baker he's ever taught," Lukas comments from the counter. Emil stifles a chuckle.

"Oh yeah," his friend just laughs if off. "I'd include you, but I'm the one who taught you. I'd still say you're the best baker _I've _ever taught."

Lukas keeps silent this time.

Leon clears his throat. "You think maybe I could stop by your place sometime? Just to check it out and all."

The ever-enthusiastic Mathias takes the thought as a golden opportunity. "That'd be great! Imagine what it'd be like having a celebrity coming by the bakery…! Would it be alright if we take a picture?"

"Fine by me," the celebrity shrugs. "I'm cool with it either way."

Emil catches his brother listening in on the conversation. Even while looking away, he can sense him rolling his sapphire eyes in exasperation. Mathias has always been someone who enjoys getting attention. With a celebrity visiting his family's bakery, there is no doubt that there will be an influx of customers checking the place out. Even so, Emil knows Lukas enjoys things the way they are. Back when he was still young, his brother often took him to the bakery because it was a decent place to relax in. A bustling business will change the tempo of things. Mathias will not be able to visit as frequently as he does. Lukas will revert back into the antisocial outcast that he once was—even more than presently given.

Speaking of Mathias…

"Mathias, don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Lukas suddenly asks.

His pointy-haired companion blinks, dumbfounded. "Eh?"

"Your parents must be worried sick about you. You shouldn't stay here so long on a business night. You should get back to them." Emil can detect the writhing tension in his voice as if he is holding something back. There is one too many people in the house, and Emil thinks it is high time someone cuts his visit short.

On the other end of the kitchen, Leon already has a feeling he is unwelcomed. His understands he is part of the problem, but to be polite, he copes with his friend's brother's inner hostility and waits for something to happen. They went out of their way to go shopping and cook for him, so it is the least he can to do sample what they have to offer first. Afterwards, he thinks it is best to leave. There is nothing else to do in Emil's house, and the atmosphere is starting to suffocate him.

Shortly after Lukas makes that suggestion to Mathias, the baker excuses himself from the house, bidding goodnight to everyone including Leon. His smile is no different than any other he gives to others, meaning he does not see the new addition to Emil's life as a nuisance. It is a shame the same cannot be said about Lukas, Emil thinks.

"Are ya gonna drop by tomorrow after work, Lukas?" Mathias asks before heading out the door.

"Shut up and leave," Lukas growls, pointing his silicon spoon at him. There is a threatening gleam in his eyes similar to the way a predator looks at his prey trespassing on his territory. This is his house, and he can do whatever he very well pleases. With that, Mathias takes his crude answer as a "Yes" and takes off back home.

With some fortunate timing, Lukas finishes cooking the potatoes shortly after Mathias takes his leave. Emil notices that when he sets them on a plate, there is just enough for Leon to eat without getting an upset stomach—or so he thinks.

"Here," his older brother says to him. "We already ate so there's just enough for you to eat."

Leon blinks his golden eyes and then stares at the dish sprinkled with sparse amounts of parsley, butter, and a hint of salt. The dish, while commonly cooked in Emil's household, is a considerably plain meal to offer someone with a high-class taste palette. Nevertheless, Leon takes a seat, no questions asked, and thanks his host for the food before gingerly taking his supplied fork and taking a bite.

Emil immediately notices something wrong. He knows Leon is prone to eating in Volt-situated restaurants, but he did not expect something like this to happen. His friend's face is wrought with a twisted, disgruntled expression like the potatoes in his mouth are, without a doubt, the most horrible thing he has ever put past his lips in his entire life. He almost feels offended for his brother. Lukas' cooking is not _that_ bad. There is no reason for him to act this way.

The expression, however, lasts for barely a fraction of a second before Leon's facial expression reverts to its normal smug appearance. Emil then watches as he takes another forkful and puts it into his mouth. He chews one, then twice, and then swallows the helping whole. At this point, Lukas is intently observing him like this is a humorous little experiment with Leon as the guinea pig.

Finally, after a few bites, Lukas bothers to ask his guest if he is enjoying his meal or not.

"It's different in a good way," Leon chuckles. To Emil's ears, he sounds like he is humoring his host. There is something else afoot, but he cannot put it into a tangible explanation just yet. Leon continues to eat. "I've never had food like this before. Most of the stuff at Volt is just this fancy schmancy garbage. It's possible to get bored of gourmet food, you know."

Lukas raises his eyebrows for a brief moment. "And I'd imagine that isn't a bad thing?"

His guest shakes his head. "Not a bit, no." He takes another bite. He barely chews before swallowing it. All the while, Emil notices his brother never bothers to ask him if he wants something to drink.

The act goes on for another six minutes or so until Leon clears his plate of solid potato slices. He checks his phone for the time and softly curses before turning his attention over to the brothers.

"Hey, um, look, I need to go. My old man's going to wonder where I went. I'm really sorry about dropping in unannounced and all that. It was nice meeting you, Lukas Thank you for the food, too." He looks at Emil. "And it was nice being able to see where you live, Ice."

"Y-Yeah," Emil slightly smiles. "Thanks for stopping by, Leon."

Lukas does not say anything, not even when his brother's friend is already walking through the door, past the yard, and onto the street. When Leon is finally out of sight, they both return to their house and sit down at the table. Lukas makes a grab for Leon's plate, but Emil gets to it first.

Taking a finger and running it through the surface of the plate, Emil collects what few remnants of potatoes are left and puts it into his mouth.

It tastes absolutely awful. The potatoes are beyond salty with bits that are raw and an overdosed usage of vinegar that was masked with the parsley. It is no wonder why Leon was struggling to finish. Lukas sabotaged his dish.

"Lukas what the heck!" he cries, spitting the taste out into the sink.

"Want some coffee?" his brother nonchalantly asks.

Emil spits again. "Why didn't you ask Leon if he wanted anything to drink?" he snarls. "Now he thinks our house serves that stuff all the time! Gah! What did you—? _Bleugh!_" He has to spit again. Lukas, in the meantime, prepares a pot of coffee. When he recovers, he grudgingly wipes his mouth on his sleeve and curses the situation. He feels terrible for making Leon go through something like that. Being someone who grew up eating at high-end restaurants, he can only imagine what his friend was putting up with when eating those potatoes. It must have been the stuff of nightmares. At the very least, Leon is a good actor. This was one way that proved it.

"I really thought he was going to spit, too," Lukas sighs as if the event was a simple disappointment rather than a full-blown matter.

"How can you treat something like that so lightly?" Emil snaps. "He's not just a regular guy; he's a _celebrity_. He doesn't have to put up with this kind of crap! Neither do I!"

"Coffee," Lukas says and hands his brother a steaming mug. Emil gratefully takes it and downs the entire contents, putting past the burning sensation in his throat to wash away the gut-wrenching taste on his tongue. When he finishes, the fire of his anger is still burning. He does not appreciate what his brother did to Leon. He never did anything to deserve that type of treatment. What if he happened to be a normal person? Would his brother treat him the same way? As he ponders this, he understands yet another reason why he never had friends before meeting his soul mate. He will be surprised if Leon wants to stay friends with him even after this.

"I don't appreciate what you did, Lukas," Emil grumbles, holding his mug to his lips.

"Just seeing if he was capable of being polite," his brother innocently replies. "If it were you, you might have spat it out. He has a stronger stomach than I imagined him to have."

"That doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't have done that!" Fed up with his brother's inability to deal with guests, Emil storms off upstairs. Perhaps a bath will calm him down, he thinks. He will have to find a way to explain the situation and apologize to Leon another time—assuming Leon is still his friend.

* * *

The quota is still not met. In a city full of seven million people, there are at least ten children born every day. A watch takes hours to days to make. Every single one has to be appropriately fitted for the predetermined countdown. It is a tedious process but one the watchmaker never complains about.

His hands move in nimble, yet constricted strokes across the shelves and cubbies, searching instinctively for the next gears or faces. All around him, he hears the sound of little faces ticking away as he breathes life into their cogs, watching through his glasses as the seconds turn by in his workshop. He is lost in thought. His mind is empty of everything but the surrounding task at hand. One watch after another, he works diligently on one watch to the next. As each one finishes, he takes a moment to admire them. The colors of the numbers in the face contrast those around the casing. Each one is then buffed and shined, and then, they are tucked away in a plush drawstring bag, soon to be shipped to the expecting parents and their newborn children. He repeats this process again and again, sometimes going through an entire watch without so much as blinking or breathing. His heart rate slows to a bare minimum in his relaxation and concentration. This is his life, his second love only to the person his own watch led him to. That very person is watching over him now, occasionally dropping by to check on his work and bringing him a new cup of coffee. Near the end of the day, that person rests a hand on his hunched shoulders and tells him it is time to go home. And then, the watchmaker removes his gloves, sets his lenses down, clicks off the tiny light, and shuts the door, the watches still ticking away in the background like nervous little children tucked to bed in the darkness.

"You did good today," the watchmaker's soul mate compliments him. Their fingers are entwined as fitting branches of the same roots. Together, they walk along the cobblestone pathway with ferns and mosses surrounding them, and beyond the wooden gates, they traverse into the artificial world.

* * *

Lukas Bondevik's feet take him to the entrance of a familiar sight. The glass window with "Køhler" painted on the top remains concealing a display of old-fashioned baked goods, and further down the list of sensory details is the aroma of fresh bread baking. Judging from the earthy smell and the content of butter, Lukas knows that they are making rye bread today. He planned on getting some before heading home, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes past the door with the rusted-over school bell jingling above. Mathias already knows he was coming since he has some fresh loaves of rye bread already on reserve. Lukas never aims to admit it aloud, but his friend knows him best.

"Nice to see ya, Lukas!" the wild-haired baker cheerfully greets him with a wide smile. "How was work at the clinic?"

"Fine," he blandly answers, already accustomed to Mathias' habits. He will strike up a short conversation about the customers and release him. As he sets to pay for the bread, Mathias is strangely removing his apron.

"Ma, can ya take over for me?! Lukas is here!"

Confused, Lukas raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. "What's going on?"

"Suit up, Lukas!" his old friend chuckles, shifting from the cash register to the front. "We're going on a little walk together!"

Lukas does not have the time for this. "I was hoping on getting back to prepare tonight's meal," he mutters. "I don't have time for you. And by the way, you owe me a po—"

But Mathias blows right past his façade. "Sure ya do! Ice is a big kid. He can take care of himself. It's just gonna be for a short while."

The disgruntled pharmaceutical assistant wants to protest, but Mrs. Køhler has already taken her son's place.

"How is everything, Lukas?" she smiles. "My son's not giving you any trouble, is he?"

"Oh, no trouble at all." He means to be sarcastic, but neither she nor her son detects it.

"That's wonderful." Her smile grows wider. "Hope you have fun wherever it is you're going."

"We'll be sure to," Lukas grumbles under his breath as he Mathias' overpowering, bulky arm leads him away.

When they are outside, he immediately slings his friend's arm off and begins walking in the direction of his house.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lukas!" Mathias laughs. "We're not going that way today! I wanna have a little chat!"

Lukas snorts and flicks his sweeping bangs to the side. However many times he does this, his blonde hair always comes cascading down the right side of his face. His cross-shaped pin does little to keep the hair out of his eye.

"If I wanted to chat, I could have easily done so back there," he hisses through grinding teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just wanna talk about Ice and Leon."

Lukas nearly stops in his tracks, but he persists in order to keep Mathias from barring him. His friend is only slightly taller than him, though his long legs unfortunately help him keep up with his power walk. It does not take long for him to give up and allow the obnoxious idiot to talk.

"What about them?" he asks.

"I was thinking about what Ice must be going through last night with Leon being his soul mate an' all."

"Aren't you the straightforward one?" Lukas replies with sarcasm laced on his tongue.

"Eh? Well, I was wondering if there was going to be something more."

Lukas' eyes darken. "There isn't anything there to begin with. I don't know what you're seeing, but there is no future in that boy and my brother's relationship. It's like that with celebrities all the time: one moment, they think there's something going, the next, it all comes crashing down with the press. Ice needs to stay out of it as much as possible. I won't have him being dragged down by that good for nothing kid."

"Ah-ha!" Mathias bursts out without warning. If Lukas was ten years younger, he might have flinched. "So you _do _think there's something up with their relationship!"

"What is this?" the irritated blonde asks. "Are you performing a rigged interrogation on me?"

"I'd never do that!" his friend laughs too loudly for his own good. He is lucky there are few pedestrians on the roads at this hour. "But, I think I'm more worried about you." He scratches his forehead. "Leon…Leon's a good kid. He might not look like it or act like it right away, but I think he has good character."

Lukas rolls his eyes. "And the day I agree with you will be the day Eliatha has an honest mayor."

"Hey, I don't think our mayor's _that_ dishonest."

"But you're also implying that he is."

"I—! _Nrrgh…!_"

Lukas hopelessly shakes his head. "How did I end up with such a buffoon?" he wonders to himself. While Mathias is recovering from his previous comeback, Lukas' eyes wander to a pet store. He stops for a moment as his eyes move to the kittens in the front. They are all incredibly tame, bred for complete submission and obedience. The same goes for the other animals as well, though all of them share one thing in common…

"It's so hard to find real ones in these parts," Mathias sighs above him. Lukas agrees. Most of the pets in the lower ends of the country are created with traits of DNA and high-technical computer encryptions. Once the personalities, colors, and various other bodily functions are analyzed, the animals are fitted into robotic bodies complete with digestive tracts, smells, and intelligence. The only crucial thing missing from these animals is that they technically are not animals at all.

After giving them an inspection, Mathias moves his gaze to his friend. "You know, when I was young, I always thought it was so sad that they were never alive. Imagine having something you've cared about all your life like it was your friend only to find that everything was predetermined and programmed. When you think of it that way, it's a bit eerie, doncha think?"

"I don't know," Lukas responds. "I've never had a pet."

"Have you ever wanted one?"

Lukas presses his lips together. "Never really thought about it. Fish are too boring. Birds are too fragile. Cats are too unappreciative. Dogs are too noisy and needy." He also adds under his breath, "Much like someone I know."

"What about a rabbit?"

"A rabbit?"

"Yeah, my aunt has one. It's cute."

Lukas thinks he can tolerate a rabbit. They can be unnecessarily stupid creatures, but at least they are not boring, noisy, or solitary.

"Rabbits…" His voice temporarily trails off. "Rabbits are fine."

"Huh." Mathias smacks his lips and looks back at the artificially fabricated kittens behind the glass. His blue eyes are lost in thought as his voice simmers down to a normal speaking volume. "That's interesting," is all he comments on and leaves it at that. From there, the two continue walking, neither one bringing up the topic of pets or of Leon again. Lukas sees this as another opportunity to remind Mathias that he still owes him a new stew pot.

* * *

Around the same time Lukas and Mathias are strolling in Circuit, two connections of a similar mind sit together at the lounge atop Wang Studio, enjoying a pot of specially brewed tea over a conversation.

"Your tea is delicious as always, Cheng," Kiku compliments him when he finishes.

"Thank you, Kiku," comes a reply with a warm smile. People who know him can tell the difference between his smile for business and his smile for his close friends and relatives. This smile is reserved for those close to him.

The Wang family's agent fingers his wristwatch, a seemingly unnecessary accessory only used for professionalism nowadays. "I'm assuming you know why I called you here?"

Cheng sets his teacup down and stares at the city below. He can see Circuit from his vantage point. After doing some research, he found out that Leon went there last night against his uncle's wishes.

"It's about Leon, isn't it?"

Kiku slightly tilts his head forward. "Yes. It's also about that boy he's been spending time with."

"Emil, you mean."

A thin-lipped line presses between the agent's lips. "Honestly, what do you know about him, Cheng? I know I've asked you this before, but I'm curious."

"He's a very mild-mannered young man," he answers. "I take it Kasem told you I met him, too?"

"Er, yes," he replies almost embarrassingly. "Is that all you know about him?"

"I don't see any reason to delve into it any further." There is a peculiar evenness to his tone. Considering Cheng is a difficult character to read, Kiku cannot tell if he is being truthful or not. In his entire life, he never doubted him for a moment; he is always honest to anyone who crosses his path, including when it comes to telling someone off. He is able to deliver his point in the politest way possible. The agent thinks this might be one reason why Leon is able to stay under control around him.

"Maybe I was wrong…" Kiku mutters. "E-Excuse my doubts. I'm really sorry."

Cheng smiles. This time, the agent cannot be sure if he is truly sincere or not. "No need to be sorry for something that isn't your fault, Kiku. It happens to the best of us."

"Perhaps so…" He means to excuse himself and return to work when Cheng's voice catches him back.

"Although…I will say this about Emil, Kiku," he says, a light piercing into his striking golden eyes. Out of all the Wangs he works for, Kiku believes Leon's favorite cousin to have the most stunning and piercing eyes in his family. They give the impression that none can escape his gaze. "…If you mean to interfere in Leon's and Emil's relationship in some way, then I suggest you back down. The way I see it, my dear cousin has finally made a friend. I've always put family before business, and this is one case where I believe it to be more personal than monetarily profitable."

Kiku, assessing the situation and underlying threat, backs down and ends his bit of the conversation. "I will keep that in mind, Cheng. This meeting was intended to be more of business than of personal matters. My apologies."

"Good," Cheng smiles, his expression teetering between the thin lines of business and sincerity, "because this is very personal to me."

* * *

___We get some insight on some potential new characters in this chapter._

_Thank you for all the lovely reviews, everyone. I've also drawn a preview picture for this story now. It looks a little better in full view, though I have no means of linking it here. I'm also still on spring break so I won't be updating the next chapter for a while._


	9. IX

The days go by like the overcast clouds over the Holo sky. Before leaving for school, Emil checks the weather forecast on his phone and sees that showers are expected to fall during the afternoon. The feeling is almost déjà vu, he thinks. The weather forecast also predicted showers in the afternoon on the day he met Leon, but the predictions were wrong. He wonders if today will be any different.

Lukas has already gone to work at the pharmaceutical clinic; Mathias is busy preparing at his bakery during this time; and Leon, as Emil recalls, has his hands full today with attending an important meeting and doing a late-night talk show. Yesterday, he messaged Emil with a schedule of when the program will be broadcasted, but Emil turned down the invitation, deciding that it was best that he knew about Leon Wang as a person instead of Leon Wang as a celebrity.

Is it any different, he wonders? At which point does Leon stop putting up his acting front and truly show himself to Emil? Because of all the thorough biographies, Emil has the facts of who Leon is as a physical person, but he does not know about Leon's true identity. Knowing how most of the Wangs work together in the same building, Emil wonders if his family members are even aware of who he is. Perhaps only Cheng knows, he suspects.

Nevertheless, skepticisms aside, the day passes normally as any other. Emil arrives safely at school, eats his lunch, goes to a few more classes, and returns home without a single text from anyone connected to Wang Studio. As a bonus to his ordinary day, he does not get kidnapped or encounter anyone closely resembling Kasem or Lien.

"Nothing's changed," he sighs, sitting at his desk. The bright blue light coming off from his hover lamp bobs mindlessly in the air, a feat achieved by breakthroughs in controlled magnetism. The same technology is used for Cubes, allowing them to control their direction and elevation at programmed will. While following the floating bulbs, the light slowly illuminates the dull walls in his bedroom. His room, as Leon mentioned, is incredibly plain. "Just like my life," he sighs again, running his hand through his silvery white bangs. His eyes then wander from his hover lamp to his papers.

Today is a light workload day. There are only a few weeks left before summer vacation. During that time, Leon will be doing a movie collaboration with another popular star, someone from the far east, was all he was told.

"Someone from Altorien*, I guess…?" he wonders aloud. "Someone similar to Leon, maybe?"

He digs through his phone and opens up a search page. Though this sort of compellation never took ahold of him in the past, he searches through any possible actors that might resemble Leon in some way. The results bring him to a single candidate by the name of Im Yong Soo, a young actor of twenty years of age. Like Leon, he, too, is a singer and pop star sensation; more importantly, he is a popular actor in soap operas, starring and succeeding the leading roles of whatever part he plays. Reading further down in his biography, Emil sees that this will be his first time casting in a big-screen movie. With two actors from similar backgrounds, the sheltered college student can only imagine how this will play when the shooting actually starts.

* * *

The weather is fair in Trip district, perfect for landing. Like the day Emil and Leon met, the weather forecast predictions are wrong.

Leon and his personal agent, Kiku, are waiting outside of the terminal guarded casually by Kasem. For a meeting like this, they are all he needs to feel secure. This way, it draws less attention, too. In any case, there is little to worry about with Leon's face disguised with a large hoodie, courtesy of his cousin's designer line.

"Looks like it's going to be a good one today." The young pop star sticks his tongue out and makes a raspberry noise in between his puckered lips. Kiku refrains from twitching his eyebrow, reminding himself to get used to this type of behavior. "Wish there were thunderstorms or something. That would've been interesting, right?"

Kiku clears his throat. "I don't think the chance of there being thunderstorms during this time of the year is very likely," he tells his boss's son. Behind him, Kasem is absentmindedly staring out of the window and watching one of the planes move towards the runway. A private jet plane from Altorien is scheduled to land in roughly seven minutes. Shortly after that, another flight will prepare to take off in the westerly direction. Being that Holo is the technological capital of Eliatha, there are several representatives of business companies from all over the world traveling on business expenses.

Trip, like every other district within the city of Holo, has a specialized area of emphasis. In its case, it is the district of business management. There are many venues as well as company buildings set up in towers, and there are so many buildings, in fact, that it surpasses the number of skyscrapers of every other district combined. Because of the high number of representatives and international shipping, the mayor chose to have the new airport built in Trip district. Additionally, to promote venues, the city was ordered to erect hotels and attractions to entertain the travelers. It is not uncommon for tourists visiting Holo to never have to leave Trip district at all, as a result.

Leon, himself, has been to Trip district a few times for his own entertainment. Before Cheng took charge of Neon district, he used to follow his cousin to observe his business negotiations. Sometimes, Cheng is sent to Trip in order to seal a contract deal with electronic appliances with overseas manufacturers over Altorien. Other times, he asks for an increase in shares of profits. However many times Leon watches him, though, one thing remains the same: Cheng always gets what he wanted. By sincere means or by subtle force, Cheng is a master of negotiations. He knows exactly what to say and how to act in order to get the main share of the profits. What fascinates Leon most of all is that his cousin can even twist his words to make other believe the deal they strike are mutually beneficial. Only after assessing the long-term effects do they realize how Cheng cleverly squeezes them dry, all while wearing a polite smile on his business-like face. The admiration Leon feels for Cheng is one of the many reasons why he tolerates his presence. While he looks up to his cousin for familial support, Cheng is equally resourceful in business tactics, something Leon wishes to master. If he can twist his words the way his cousin does, then everything will be able to go his way, too. He will also be able to get what he wants—Emil included.

"Ah." Kiku looks up at the electronic display across the hall, catching Leon's attention to his eyes. "The flight's landed."

Leon, not one to look forward to this collaboration, dulls his eyes in a half-conscious look and reads the newest update. The private jet from Altorien has just grounded on Eliatha soil. Yong Soo will be arriving out of the terminal at any moment.

"Why the fuck do we have to be here?" Leon snarls at Kiku. He actually knows the answer fully well; it is because Yao wants him to make a good representative of his company. It is polite to greet his guests personally, though Leon can care less. Still, he asks the question to see what sort of ways Kiku will twist the facts.

"It is good for representation," Kiku answers much to Leon's expectations. Leon can tell he is holding himself back from any slips about representing Yao's company and not Leon.

"You mean it's good for my old man," Leon corrects him.

Kiku lowers his eyebrows. "I didn't say that. Your father wanted you to—"

"Bullshit about that," the young actor snorts. "And don't call him my father. I thought I told you never to use that word around me."

His head lowering in a manner of his own culture's customs, Kiku apologizes to his boss's son and promises to watch himself in the future. All the while as this is happening, Kasem is still absentmindedly staring at the plane headed for the west. With the jet plane now landed and unloading its luggage and passengers, the larger plane carrying shipments and tourists is starting to make its way to the runway.

"Leon, look at this," he says with a distant smile. "This one's going to the west."

To humor him, Leon goes over and stares out the window. There are no words painted on either side of the plane, but there is a familiar picture of a green, flying rabbit on the tail. It must be headed for Brysogwig**, a kingdom out in the west. The green winged rabbit signifies that the airline belongs to Kirkland Distributors, a company known for making large collaborations with Holo in everything ranging from electronics to its own chain of foods. While not very prominent in its electronics, it makes up for its quality in food brands. Leon has always wanted to travel to Brysogwig and see if the food is really as bad as everyone claims it to be, just for the experience and the stories if nothing else.

"One day," he barely mutters aloud.

"Ooh, look there!" Kasem excitedly points. He directs Leon's attention to a plane that is already taking off in the westward direction. Again, there are no words on the plane, but one look at the various crosses and Leon can tell that the plane is a commercial airline from a large distributor of designs and electronics.

"That one's from Crodinia***, Kasem," Leon tells him. "You can tell because of those crosses. And the one that's taking off right now is going to Brysogwig."

His distant relative chuckles. "You know a lot about this kind of stuff."

"That's because I used to hang out with Cheng all the time. You know…before he took charge of Neon and all."

Kasem nods.

"He knows all sorts of things about international affairs. Funny how he went from Trip to Neon. I guess if he's happy, that's alright with me."

Again, Kasem nods.

Before they can continue looking at the other planes, the sound of Kiku clearing his throat turns their heads back towards the terminal.

"Kasem, you're here to make sure nothing happens to Leon," the uptight agent reminds him. "Family or not, we didn't hire you to sightsee with him."

"Er, right, I forgot." The easygoing bodyguard scratches his messy brown hair and returns to position. In all the years Leon has known him, he can hardly blame him for wanting to distract himself from the task at hand. Standing around like a constipated cardboard cutout can be excruciatingly boring.

However, it appears that Kiku was right to make the call of straightening out because as soon as they settle down, three large figures with zany bright-colored suits exit out of the terminal first. With narrowing amber eyes, Leon notices the person they are guarding is nearly as tall as his bodyguards—if anyone can even bear to call tall, muscular men with day-glow orange tuxedos bodyguards.

The person in the center, Leon notices through the loose cracks of the brightly colored clothes, is sporting all the latest gadgets freshly released from Holo's manufacturing companies, many of which are branches of Wang Studio. Accessories such as the band watch he is wearing are not even out on the Holo market yet. The dark glasses perched lightly on the bridge of his nose are state of the art chrome-cased and designed for the sharpest experience in optical web surfing. Once again, this has not been released outside of the country yet, but here this person is, donning these overly expensive and high-tech gadgets like a crow wearing peacock feathers. To make matters worse—

"Leon!"

The young star holds back from tightening his fists in case one of the bodyguards is watching. He tells himself to tolerate him just enough to leave the airport. Once that part is done, he will finally be free of this torment if not for a little while longer.

"'Sup, Yong Soo?" he greets the Altorienese celebrity with a lift of his lips and a wave of his hand. Nothing too dramatic or unenthusiastic.

"Man, when was the last time I saw you?" Yong Soo chuckles, looking down at his future collaborator. "It was at that one awards ceremony…"

"Thread Awards," Leon automatically answers, referring to the acting awards based on Internet voting popularity.

"Right, right!" he laughs a little too loudly. His obnoxious behavior vaguely reminds Leon of someone he recently met, but he cannot be too sure who he has in mind. "So how's everything going?"

"Pretty good," Leon replies with an even smile; it is the kind of smile he gives people when he cannot give a damn about their pathetic existence. "And what about you? I heard you finished up another series, didn't you? How'd that one do?"

Right after he finishes the question, Yong Soo puffs his chest outward like a proud dog bringing a stick to its owner. If only that were the case, Leon thinks in the back of his head. "Top of the charts as always," he boasts. "I was so good, the studio asked me to do another soap with him, but then this deal came up, and you know how it is. I've always been looking forward to working with you, Leon."

"Peh, you give me too much credit, man," Leon grins with his perfectly white teeth baring. Unbeknownst to everyone other than Cheng (who is not even here), he expresses his smile with an inner hostility and keeps him from chewing on his bottom lip clean off. "So, like, I know your agent's cool with you doing this, but you're really okay working with me?"

"Of course!" Yong Soo beams, completely unaware of the growing cloud of disregard looming over Leon's aura.

Just as Leon is about to come back with a remark, Kiku cuts in and speaks. "Im Yong Soo, it's nice to have you in Eliatha again," he says with an equally polite smile akin to Cheng's mannerism. "I'm sorry to inform you that Yao cannot be here to greet you into our city, but please make yourself comfortable during your stay."

"No need to do that, Honda," Yong Soo widely smiles at the agent. "I'm gonna be here a while so I'm going to make the best of it." He looks over at Leon. "Leon, here, is going to show me all the ropes, right?"

"Don't count on it," Leon smirks. "There's so much to see. Even if we weren't doing the movie shoot, there's not enough time to see everything." He pauses. "Plus with those new glasses of yours, you can just look up places yourself, right?"

At the mention of his glasses, Yong Soo takes them off and exposes his soft brown eyes. There is nothing too peculiar about them, but there is little significance, either. Unlike Yong Soo, the Wangs are able to captivate others with their magnificent golden eyes. It is a physical trait that Leon is rather proud of—that and his additional training in martial arts. Yong Soo, he knows, is decently muscular but only for looks, not for stunts.

"You know what these things are?" the Altorienese actor stares at Leon.

Leon, in turn, places his hands defiantly on his hips in a wide, exposed stance. He means to show that he is not afraid of Yong Soo's towering height even when, by comparison at nearly a head taller, Yong Soo is almost as tall as Cheng.

"Yeah, in fact, I recognize a lot of the getup you're wearing. Those are part of a model of chrome-cased glasses that aren't even out of the country market yet. The band watch you're wearing is supposed to be part of a secret blueprint that isn't even out of the district yet. And don't get me fucking started on your clothes. Those are supposed to be Cherry Pink clothes. My cousin designs outfits for them, and she puts a lot of work into each one. Those rags you're wearing are knock-offs. Shit, your entire _body_ is a walking knock-off."

…Or so Leon wants to say. Instead, he remains silent and plays dumb to save himself the trouble of getting scolded later. Who knows? Perhaps Yong Soo, himself, does not know he is wearing several knock-offs. That will make exposing him in the future all the more fun. So, instead, he takes a deep breath and puts on his blank face.

"No. I just thought that maybe they'd have an additional function to them or something," he shrugs. "Just a hunch."

Yong Soo smirks. Leon smirks, too. He has the pretentious Altorienese hooked like a minnow.

"I didn't think you'd know what these were," he haughtily scoffs, twirling one of the ends in his fingers. "These are state of the art chrome-cased glasses. They're built like phones, but they can display a hundred times more pixels than holograms. They can even detect movements in your eyes to assess what you're looking for."

"How innovative," Leon monotonously says.

Kiku clears his throat. All the while, the bodyguards with bright suits are staring down the singular Kasem like he is a plaything. Leon does not know much about the zany men's abilities, but he hopes they know better than to think poorly of his bodyguard. Kasem is one of the men in charge of his stunts in his movies, after all. Anyone who sees him fight will do well to remember that.

"Yong Soo, if I may direct your attention to the purpose of your visit," the agent begins, "you're going to be staying with us at Wang Studio for the length of the movie shoot."

Although he already knows this, Leon still curses in his head, wishing he can cross his arms and spit. The thought of sleeping under the same roof as that noisy rave-loving Altorienese celebrity makes his teeth grind. His taste in music and fashion were always one step behind too pompous in addition to everything else.

"Got that right!" Yong Soo beams like an energetic child. "I've always wanted to see what kind of hospitality they've got over there! I get a penthouse suite, right?"

Kiku's brow nearly furrows, but he restrains himself and adjusts his position with a light shift. "There are no suites on the top floor, I'm afraid. As with many of his buildings, the entire top floor is reserved for Yao Wang and his top executives."

Yong Soo smirks to that. "Top executives?" he chuckles. "You mean his family members, right?"

"Some, but not all," Kiku clarifies.

This practice is common among family businesses. Having no soul mate or children of his own, Yao adopted Leon when he was not even a year old. His biological parents, close friends and business partners of Yao, were killed in an unfortunate accident that left him an orphan. It was under his parents' will that should anything happen to them, Leon was to be placed under Yao's full care as his guardian. However, as generous of a thing that was, it was all a front in the name of business. Of course, since they did not share blood, Yao never treated Leon like his son; instead, he raised him to be the spitting image of what an ideal child should be: intelligent, behaved, and picture-perfect media material.

The first few years went by comfortably and smoothly. As a child, Leon obeyed his guardian without a word of protest, day by day blissfully unaware of what Yao was setting him up to become. It was around the time he was ten years old when Leon grew cognizant of his role. He noticed how Yao never gave him love the way his cousin's parents would. Where his cousins were given the freedom to choose what they wanted to do, Leon was stuck learning how to answer to interviews and training in rigorous stunt programs. Even after everyone grew up and found jobs within Wang Studio, they did it because they wanted to, not because they were trapped in a cage with no room to spread their wings.

Athletics and stardom aside, Yao made sure Leon was well-learnt in his academic studies. Because of that, Leon never attended school. Not even once. His only perception of being able to attend a school with students around his age was through television programs or in the stories he read. He never had a true friend growing up because of that, always weighed down by his guardian, doted on by his cousins to make up for his lack of real family, and surrounded constantly by cameras or bodyguards. It was not long before one day, Leon finally decided to break free of his bubble and start learning more about the world around him. He did not want this kind of life. He was different. He had one thing that many of his relatives did not have: a watch.

The watch was the one thing that kept Leon hoping. He knew that none of the people he affiliated himself with were bound to be his soul mate. She was out there. He knew it. Some called it fate. Others called it predetermined luck. Call it whatever they wanted to, but to Leon, he only knew that this is what his life had in store for him. And so, little by little, almost undetectable to even his closest family members, he began to rebel. He started to sneak out of his rooms. He learned the business tongues. He learned how to negotiate with adults three times his age to work his way around the systems. With his expansive hunger for knowledge, he began to grow until there was nothing left that he could not consume. The world that he was sheltered and prepared for became his, and once the numbers on his watch all stopped at their zeros, he would no longer need anything else.

Or so he thought.

Emil Steilsson: an ordinary individual with no outstanding talents, no recognizable names, no important family members, no heaping wealth, no fascinating qualities, and most of all, a guy. Leon supposes he should have been more shocked when he finally met his soul mate. Emil is nothing like what he originally envisioned out of his significant other. Everything about them is as different and mirrored as fire and ice. They do not even compliment one another in every aspect. It is like the ones in charge of predetermined their fates never wanted them to be happy. Still, all the same, Leon knows that the watches never lie. Whatever comes of the future is his to decide, and the route he hopes to take will lead him down one where they ultimately both find closure.

But, for now, Leon pushes his plans aside to focus on what is in front of him. Yong Soo is asking several questions about where to eat and go clubbing. He proposes they go to Retro or Neon together, though Kiku quickly declines, telling him those places are not ideal for a celebrity to be wandering around in public. While they are making their way to the front of the airport, Kasem makes a comment about the color of Yong Soo's bodyguards' suits. Leon snickers.

"They're really flashy, aren't they?" he chuckles. "If they ever get lost, it won't be hard to track them down."

"Right?" Kasem smiles.

"…So I was thinking that perhaps when you settle down, I'll schedule an appointment for you to meet with Yao," Kiku suggests to the Altorienese actor.

Yong Soo, however, waves his hand. "No need, Honda. I can just make a visit whenever I want. It's no big deal, right?"

Kiku blinks. "Forgive me for being ignorant of any customs you might have, but it is polite to adjust to your superior's schedules here. Who do you think signed you on this contract?"

"And who's the one who agreed?" Yong Soo asked back. "If I didn't sign up for this, someone else would have done it. Who else do you know who's perfect for this role?"

"Apologies." The agent holds back a sigh and shifts through some messages on his phone. Leon and Kasem can tell he is trying his best to keep his emotions in check. All of them want to get through Yong Soo's visit without too much disruption to their lives. That being said, there is little to be guaranteed, considering how unpredictable the celebrity gets. His wardrobe, alone, is enough to convince someone of that speculation.

The group manages to get through to the luggage check out when suddenly, a bright white flash goes off. Someone screams, and in an instant, the bodyguards are surrounding Yong Soo on all sides. Kasem, on the other hand, is already hovering over Leon and moving along the edges of the walls.

"Fuck," Leon curses under his breath. "Don't tell me…"

"It's him!" someone squeals from the other side of the luggage check out. "Im Yong Soo!"

There is already a large crowd of women rushing to the trio of colorful bodyguards. How security managed to let them all slip through is unknown, but what Leon does know is that he cannot afford to be seen here, either.

"Leon, we need to go," Kiku hastily snaps as he follows closely behind.

"Don't need to tell me that now, man," Leon grunts. "Shit. Who in the world leaked his location?"

"We'll find that out later, Leon," Kiku pants, struggling to keep up with the other two. Being someone who is always sitting at a desk, his athletic abilities are not up to par. "I'm too old for this…"

"Step it up, Kiku!" Leon snaps just loud enough for the agent to hear him. "We're getting out of here with you!"

It is a good thing Yong Soo's bodyguards are easily distinguishable. With Im Yong Soo clearly in the center of them, the fans are too busy focusing their attention on them. Leon, Kasem, and Kiku are able to slip away without any trouble at hand. Eventually, they make it out of the airport towards the front area. With Leon wearing a large hood to conceal his face, he does not have to worry about security or fans recognizing him. As for Yong Soo, Kiku is forced to make an urgent call to Wang Studio.

"Yes, I'm really sorry about this," Kiku apologizes over the phone while Leon and Kasem go to a nearby noodle shop. Oddly enough, for an airport food court, the food is refreshingly tasty. While Kasem is eating, Leon talks between mouthfuls of noodles and mushrooms.

"What's he thinking apologizing to that geezer like that?" he frowns. "It's not his fault the fans started to rampage here in the airport. Geez." He pauses to drink some soup. "It's no wonder his blood pressure's so high. I bet he gets worked to death like that, just worrying about useless shit all the time."

Kasem agrees. "It's just the way he was brought up. Lien notices that, too."

"It's not good for anyone. It's annoying, even."

"Are you going to tell that to him?"

Leon scoffs. "_Psh. _Knowing him, that'd just make him worry even more.

"…Understood, Mr. Wang," Kiku says with a bow despite there being no one in front of him. "I will make sure he arrives safely. Yes. I will. Goodbye." He hangs up and, with a sigh, approaches Leon and Kasem who are finished with their noodles.

"What'd my old man say?" Leon asks after wiping his mouth.

Clearly troubled by the incident, Kiku stops to gather himself together and wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. "Your guardian wants us to arrive back at the studio with Yong Soo in hand."

"Give me a break!" Leon loudly groans. He slowly slips underneath the table until even the tip of his hood disappears. "I have shit I need to do! This is the last thing I want to be doing right now! You can't just tell Yong Soo to pick up a cab or something?"

Kiku's lifeless brown eyes thin. "That's not the case. If Yong Soo takes a taxi instead of a properly labeled car, who knows what will happen to him?"

"Don't worry about it. Those dudes in the suits will take good care of him—more or less. I wasn't too sure about the bald one. He looks a little out of place—"

"Leon." Kiku stretches out the length of his name. "This is important. He's going to be your acting partner for the next six months or so. You're going to have to get used to this."

The young actor does not enjoy his agent's tone. It reminds him of an ill cross between Yao and Cheng, one person whom he despises and another whom he respects. This is precisely why he cannot bring himself to get close to Kiku on a personal level, family or not.

"You've got such a stick up your ass, you know that?" Leon sneers and gets up. "C'mon, Kasem. Let's go back to the hotel. _Honda_, here, can take care of things himself. He apologized, so it must be, like, his fault, right?"

"Er…yes?" Kasem answers, not sure whether to side with his relative or his boss' agent.

Kiku, getting farther away as the other two continue to walk, is slowly fuming. "If you don't get back here right now, I'm going to tell your father."

Just then, Leon pauses and turns on his heel, a deadly glow in his golden eyes. When he speaks, his voice is so dangerously low that the air around him practically freezes in an icy envelopment. "What the fuck did you say?"

Realizing his mistake, Kiku means to apologize, but he finds himself in a tough spot. He meant to make a light threat to follow his boss' orders, but by referring to Yao as Leon's father is going against Leon's orders. He cannot find it in himself to act, so instead, he remains quiet.

"I was talking to you, _Honda_," Leon snarls, walking back to the agent. Kasem is sure to stay at a reasonable distance between him. Whenever Leon addresses those close to him by their last name, he knows he means business.

Then, out of their surprise, Leon snags Kiku by the tie. There is little anyone can do to intervene. Leon is far stronger than Kiku, and if the agent makes a move, he can lose his job. Kasem, on the other hand, is only sworn to protect his relative so he has few choices to act on.

"I asked you a damn question, Honda," Leon speaks in a cold voice. His eyes are frosted over like ice despite his eyes blazing with a bright golden fire. His irises fixate into Kiku's lightless orbs, bringing an unsettling fear into his nerves.

"I-I just meant that if you go against your guardian's wishes—"

"No," Leon sharply snaps. "The thing you said before. The one about a certain _father?_"

Kiku presses his lips together until they turn white from the lack of circulation. "Please, Leon, don't make a scene here."

The young actor raises his eyebrows. "A scene? A scene, you say? I am Leon Wang. I can make whatever kind of scene I want, just like that damn Yong Soo did. You want me to really make a scene? I can show you."

Kasem finally cuts in. "Leon, stop this," he speaks in a firm tone unlike his usual character. "You're going to cause trouble that could've been prevented. Don't do this right now."

With Kasem as the acting voice of reason, Leon calms down a little and loosens his grip on Kiku's tie. The agent sputters a soft cough when his windpipe is given enough room to breathe.

"Kiku," Kasem says to the agent, "I'm sure Yong Soo will be fine. We can go sort this out with Yao another time, but right now, I think we're all tired. We all woke up early to meet Yong Soo, and I don't think all of us are in the best of moods right now, wouldn't you say so?"

"Yes," he immediately answers. "I'll just take care of this later." He means to continue when he changes his mind. "Actually, you two go on ahead. I'll make sure Yong Soo knows where he needs to go."

Kasem blinks. "You sure, Kiku?"

"I'm sure." He stares into Leon's still alight golden eyes. "Leon, do you think you can let me go?"

The celebrity lets out a huff of hot air before completely releasing his hold. His arm snaps back to his side as he turns around and storms out of the airport. "Come on, Kasem. We're really going this time."

"Right, Leon," Kasem replies and trails after him, leaving the befuddled agent left to clean up the mess he was not responsible for.

* * *

"Eh? No way! Are you serious about that?"

"Totally serious."

A few minutes after returning to Volt District, Leon called Mei, his cousin responsible for making designs for Blossoms and Cherry Pink. Upon informing her about the details, she was not happy about her designs getting bootlegged.

"And you're sure Yong Soo's the one wearing them?" she groans over the phone.

"I'm sure." Leon yawns as he makes himself comfortable on his bed. Overhead, the wallpaper is spawning red bubbles of light. There are also various hover lamps in different shades of colors floating in the unoccupied spaces. When the lights turn red to match his wallpaper, he remembers another detail. "Oh yeah, and like, get this: instead of Cherry Pink with the pink cherry logo, it was, like, this slice of some other fruit. It was red."

"Red?" Mei echoes. "What kind of fruit was it?"

"I really don't know," Leon frowns. "I didn't get a good look at it. It kind of looked like an orange, but it wasn't, you know."

"Oh." The speaker goes silent. "Well, when you see Yong So again, give him a piece of my mind, okay?"

That brings a smile to his tired face. Leave it to one of his cousins to give him a smile when he needs it most. "I'll do that. Yong Soo's got a bunch of other bootlegs things from Yao's companies, too. Some of them aren't even on the market yet. I don't know if he's going to wear those around him, but if he does, there's going to be some major suing happening."

Mei sighs. "And that will be fun, won't it?"

"Yup." Both of them are sarcastic. "…Hey, so, like, when do you think you're going to be able to visit again?"

"Holo? I really don't know. It's busy right now. Summer's coming, you know. There's a demand for a new line of clothing I need to finish. The earliest I can get done is in another two months, and that's being optimistic."

Leon sighs. "At least you got to choose that lifestyle. I'm just stuck here with Yong Soo and Yao."

"They're not that bad, Leon. Lot's of girls go crazy for Yong Soo. Oh! That reminds me!" Her sudden shift in tone causes Leon to straighten his posture just a bit. "Hey, didn't you say your numbers were stopping really soon?"

He stops. "Uh…"

"Did they stop yet?" his cousin persists. "I'm sure they were supposed to stop before you turned twenty. I remember that much. So did they stop yet? Did they? Did you find your soul mate?"

Leon forces a smile to help convey his tone against the overwhelming storm of questions. "If I did, Yao would have been all over her. The entire world would've known by now, don't you think?"

"Oh…" Mei's voice falls with disappointment. "I really want to meet her. I bet she's really pretty."

"Yeah." His voice starts to trail off. "Pretty…"

"And when you meet her, I can dress her up in all sorts of clothes. I bet she's like a model type. Creamy skin, nice eyes, a fun personality…"

"Uh huh." At this point, Leon is hardly paying any more attention. Emil is not the ideal soul mate Mei imagines him to be, the most important factor being that he is not even a girl. When the time comes that he introduces them, what will she think? Heck, what will any of them think?

Leon bites his lips at the thought. Cheng accepts the fact well enough, but it is only because Leon knew he would accept it that he told him the truth to begin with. He knows Yao will go ballistic. Having a guy—a nobody at that—being his soul mate will ruin his media image. Kiku will accept it in time, but it will only be a matter of time before Yao squeezes the truth out of him. Lien and Kasem are sure to take the news rather well, but he knows Yao will also wring their tongues until they tell him about Emil. As for Mei, she will undoubtedly tell the entire world when she finds out. She is the last person who needs to know. So, Leon chooses to keep quiet about this until he can sort things out with Emil.

"Hello?" Mei's voice cuts into his processing mind. "Leon, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I am," he says, his eyes half-glazed over in a daze. His room has shifted from a dark red to a deep blue color, the same shade of blue, in fact, as the overhead holograms back at Teal. He wonders if Emil still remembers the meal they had together.

"Oh. So, anyway, I was thinking that maybe when you meet your soul mate, you can bring her over here and get her to model for me."

Leon raises a brow. "What makes you think she wants to do that?"

"It's every girl's dream to be a model of mine, silly," she giggles. "Whoever your girl's going to be, she's definitely going to be pretty enough for modeling, doncha think so?"

"Oh, I know so," he smirks, thinking about when he set Lien and Kasem to drag Emil to Volt. The photos came out decently enough. In fact, he recently received a call from the studios asking if Emil could do a photo shoot in three weeks. He will have to remember that call for later.

As he is running out of things to say, to his relief, Mei gets a call from a client. "Ooh, I have to take this Leon. I'll call you back some other time, okay?"

"Yeah. Nice talking with you, Mei." A quick farewell later, his cousin hangs up the phone and returns to work. Tired from having to wake up to go to the airport, Leon flops over on his bed and stretches his limbs. The animated wallpaper in his room melts into a holographic aurora of cool colors, washed-over blues, opalescent purples, and aqua-tinted greens. As he continues to stare at the colors, his eyes start to focus on the pale purples. The shades sometimes turn into the color of Emil's lavender eyes, and his mind wanders to how he must be doing.

"He's either at school or home, I bet," he thinks aloud and checks his phone. There is a message from Kiku, telling him Yong Soo has safely arrived at Wang Studio—but not before making a public scene and causing media stations to flock over to him.

"Fucking guy," he murmurs and clicks his phone off. He has a feeling that Yong Soo was actually the one who dropped the hint he was coming over to Holo. Knowing how much attention he enjoys getting, it only makes sense; none of his agents would have agreed to let him make a public announcement.

Sure enough, to confirm Leon's suspicions, he gets a call from his guardian. He sighs, knowing he has to answer it, and holds his phone back to his ear. "What now, old man?"

"Yong Soo is here, Leon," his guardian's snappy voice speaks over the phone. "I want you to come up to my office so we can discuss business matters."

Leon clenches his teeth in annoyance. "What business?" he snaps. "That's your end of the deal. Your job is to organize the things that we go to, not to tell us what actions will rake in publicity. Speaking of publicity, Kiku told you what happened at the airport, right?"

"He did," Yao speaks in a flat tone of concern about Yong Soo. "It's amazing that Altorienese is a year older than you, but that's not what's important right now. I'm talking about the plans for the movie. There's been some changes."

The actor kicks his feet together until the bottoms of his soles are sore. "What changes? Is one of us supposed to die in the script?"

"No, not that." His guardian lets out a deep sigh. "Yong Soo was supposed to be a supporting actor to your starring role."

"No, shit. I know that."

"Well, his agents have gone through the process with the studio. They want Yong Soo to co-star with you. It's either that, make you the supporting character, or cut the deal altogether."

"Bull. Shit." Leon sits up. His voice rises. "Tell him I'm not doing it."

There is a pause in the conversation. Yao must be thinking of what to say to his son. "Leon, we've already put a lot of money into this film because of the commercial advertisements and special effects drafting. Lots of work already went into rewriting the script. If you back out, then we'll be out of a lot of heta."

Leon's golden eyes glaze over. "So we're talking already a starting budget of, like, a few million heta blown?"

"A little more than you'd think, yes."

Leon curses. "So I can't back out."

"No."

"Then…" Leon moves his fallen bangs back from his eyes. "Fine, I'll just co-star with him. There's no way I'm going to be a supporting actor."

"Alright. Then you're going to have to tell that to Yong Soo and his agent that when you get here."

The teenager softly curses before getting onto his feet. "I'm coming. Is he there right now?"

"He's settling in his room still. Better to arrive first."

"Right, right." Cheng always tells him the first to arrive makes the first impression; he always means to make a good one. So, without further ado, he slips on his jacket and heads out of his room. There are little hovering Cubes surrounding the entrance to his room despite the hall already being heavily guarded by security. Ever since Yao found out about his second escape, security has been tighter than usual. It will take a little more effort, but he will still be able to crack the security system if he ever wants to privately meet Emil.

Leon glides past the other occupants on his floor and steps into the personal elevator. When he gets to the top, he can already see Lien in her secretary attire. Leon's eyes narrow in annoyance at the way his guardian makes her dress. He thinks his cousin looks better with a suit than a skirt.

"Hi, Leon," she says to him in a polite tone. "Yao's waiting for you in his office."

"I know," he yawns. "And Yong Soo?"

Her eyes move to her computer screen. "I contacted the security department, and they said he's still in his room. It might be a few minutes."

"Fantastic," he sarcastically responds. "I've got all the time in the world." To avoid having to confront Yao just yet, he takes out his personal phone and quickly sends a message to Emil.

**Leon: how r u doing?**

**Emil: Fine.**

The celebrity smirks. He finds it amusing how his friend responds with the typical one-worded response. As if he expects him to open out his heart to him.

**Leon: u free today?**

It takes Emil around two minutes to respond, a little longer than the celebrity prefers to wait for a reply.

**Emil: Why ask me? You said you're supposed to do a meeting and night show.**

"So he remembers that," he mutters under his breath.

**Leon: r u gonna watch it? the show I mean **

**Emil: No.**

Leon frowns at how instant that respond comes, but then, another message follows.

**Emil: I want to know you for who you are as a person. **

**Emil: Not as a celebrity. **

"Cute," Leon chuckles. From the corner of his eye, he notices Lien briefly looking up from her desk at him. "It's nothing," he amusingly tells her. "Just something a friend sent me." He types up a response.

**Leon: u really want to know the real me?**

Another pause ensues. This one is even longer than the previous waiting periods.

**Emil: Yes. **

A faint smile cracks on Leon's lips. There is something about how plain and innocent Emil is that makes him want to be around him. Deep down, he perceives this way of thinking to be cruel and cold of him, but after being barred from having friends for so long, it is the true, genuine way he sees his dear soul mate. On that mindset, his thumbs tap another message.

**Leon: when does ur summer vacation start? **

A quick delay later, a message pops up in his inbox.

**Emil: Three weeks. **

It is longer of a wait than Leon wants, but he thinks by then, any suspicions of hanging around Emil will die down. Plus, he will have learned to adapt to Yong Soo's lifestyle. On top of that, there are three weeks before the agency wants to see Emil again for another photo shoot. If he plays his cards correctly, there might be a chance for another date.

As he is about to type up a reply, the elevator chimes. He thinks that must be Yong Soo and his agent arriving for the meeting. Moving towards Yao's office, he types up a quick response after mentally searching through his schedule. Between now and the rest of the summer, the moments they will be able to spend with one another will be rare.

**Leon: gotta go**

**Leon: meetings starting**

**Leon: wait for a call **

**Leon: ill take you out on another date**

* * *

_Sorry for the long wait, everyone. The website was buggy for me earlier so I couldn't submit this chapter. School's been pretty hectic for me, too. Thank you for the wonderful reviews as always. _

_*Anagram of "Oriental," the equivalent alternate to East Asia._

_**Anagram of "Iggy Brows," which first appeared in a different story of mine. It is the equivalent alternate to the United Kingdom. _

_***Anagram of "Nordic" + ia, which first appeared a different story of mine. It is the equivalent alternate to Scandinavia. _

_I really like using anagrams for my stories. They can be found throughout my other works._


	10. X

Finals week comes and goes. The days grow longer, and the air increases in humidity and temperature. Being unaccustomed to the heat, beads of sweat trickle down Emil's forehead as he returns home from his last test. His brother is at work at this hour, but on this final day of the school year, he arrives at his front door with an inviting scent of fresh breads coming to greet him. The aroma is sweeter than he expects it to be, and as he enters the kitchen, Mathias is already making himself at home, fiddling with the oven and dusting the flour off his hands.

"Hi, Ice!" His loud, overbearing voice snaps Emil back from his heat-dazed senses and cuts deep into his ears. Like any other time Mathias visits, it feels like he is truly home.

"Hi, Mathias," he replies back. Knowing that his brother's other is here, he makes a quick stop to his room to set down his testing materials before taking a seat at the dining table.

"Lukas told me your last finals were today," Mathias tells him. "How'd you think you did?"

"Alright, I guess," Emil answers. His breath is still decently short from breathing more water vapor than clean air.

"No! Don't tell me that!" Mathias laughs with a booming voice. "Yer supposed ta say 'I did good! I aced that test!' or something like that! Ya take after yer brother, after all, Ice."

Emil wipes a layer of sweat from his forehead with a napkin. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning yer smart," his brother's soul mate finishes. "So don't let your smarts go to waste." He pauses as if his own "smarts" are trying to process information. "Of course, yer not as smart as _I _am, but I'm just saying."

"Oh, of course." Emil rolls his eyes and gets up to fetch a glass of water. At this point, the breads baking in the oven are finished. Leave it to Mathias to know exactly when Emil will come home at just the right time to eat fresh breads. "What did you bake today?" he asks when he sits back down.

A large childlike grin spreads across the baker's face. "It's something I've been trying to work on for a while. I think Lukas is going to like this." When he opens the oven and takes the breads out, Emil sees that there are little crescent-like rolls puffed up with two long ears and little bun-shaped tails. He recognizes the intended shape right away.

"Rabbits?" The tops are baked to a delicate golden brown as expected of a devoted baker. They are even braided in such a way that when they finish baking, the edges puff out to take the shapes of eyes and a curved mouth.

"Bunnies!" Mathias smiles in his addicting manner. "We thought it sounded cuter to market them off as bunny buns."

"Bunny buns…?" Emil softly echoes. The name is annoyingly cute, something he is not entirely sure he can go along with. He wonders how his brother will respond when he comes back from work. While his mind is still preoccupied with what Lukas' reaction will be, Mathias sets the tray on a baking rack to let them cool. A tantalizingly sweet smell of butter and yeast drifts into Emil's nostrils and makes his stomach growl. He has not eaten anything since breakfast, and his last tests have used up all his brainpower and energy.

"I think they're going to be a hit this summer," Mathias continues to talk. "We're still settling on what we're going to do with the filling or if we should just given them a variety. Maybe an exclusive flavor or something…"

Emil stares at the bunny buns. "I think they're going to sell with whatever you put in them," he says. Personally, he prefers plain bread to the sweets his brother enjoys, but his opinion is not quite on par with the rest of the customers. All his life, he has enjoyed the plain variations of anything ranging from breads to even the seasonings in his meats. Lukas, on the other hand, while never openly accepting anything other than the Køhlers' breads, is something of a sweets advocate despite his outwardly cold demeanor. Because of this, Mathias often asks him to try out some of his family's newest creations. Emil suspects bunny bread will be no exception to this common practice. Little has changed in almost sixteen years.

With that in mind, Emil knows that none of the Køhler's breads have bad taste. He supposes that is only natural after being in the business for seven generations. When the breads cool, he takes one and takes the tail off. He plops little roll of dough into his mouth and rolls it around his tongue. The balance of butter with a light use of flour is just right. This bread is noticeably sweeter than most he is used to, though he thinks the bunny buns are marketed towards sweet advocates like his brother.

Mathias who is intently watching him eat wears a large smile. "How is it?" he asks, his sky-like eyes beaming with a hidden pride.

"It's good," Emil tells him and proceeds to bite off the head. He cannot understand why people try to save the head for last. Supposing the animal-shaped edibles really are alive, they will suffer more when consumed from the bottom up, will they not? On that mindset, he quickly dispatches the bunny-shaped bread's head and works his way to the filling-less center.

"I knew they were good!" Mathias proudly smiles. "Ah, it's too bad you guys don't have any eggs right now. I wanted to make some custard, but you guys were fresh out. I can't leave the oven unattended."

Emil sighed between bites. "If you want to make custard, just go to the store and buy some. The breads are done baking, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are!" Mathias realizes as though the thought never dawned on him before. "I'll be right back, okay, Ice?"

"Sure," he says and finishes up his first helping. The overwhelming taste of sugar in his mouth begs to be washed down with water. Emil takes hearty gulps while Mathias leaves to buy some eggs.

Sometime while he is finishing his afterschool snack, Emil gets a message on his phone. Thinking it is Lukas telling asking about his finals, he pulls out the display screen and reads the message. In an instant, he stops chewing and freezes his eyes onto the screen. It is a message from Leon.

**Leon: hey. can u meet me in trip aqua station?**

"Trip district?" he mumbles quietly to himself when his petrified phase passes. "That's the business district. What does he want over there?"

His thoughts wander over to the possible reasons. Retro is easier to get lost in, but it is also easier to get overwhelmed with fans if Leon's identity is to ever become exposed. Aside from being a district for business interactions, Trip also has a lot of tourist attractions to keep the travelers occupied. Perhaps Leon means to bring him to one of these places for their second date.

At the thought of knowing this is their second date, Emil's eyebrows lower towards his eyes. It is strange at how they call their outings "dates." They are just friends. They should just call these things get-togethers. Sure, it is just the two of them, but the thought off going out on "dates" makes him uncomfortable. He does not want anyone to get the wrong idea—Lukas especially.

Just then, his phone sends off another message, startling Emil and making him jolt from his seat.

**Leon: u there?**

He reluctantly types back a response.

**Emil: Yes. I'm here. **

**Leon: so r ur coming?**

Emil presses his lips together. School is over. Summer vacation has officially started. For another three months, he does not have to worry about tests or homework or writing papers. He is free from all of that. By technicality, he should also be free from his brother. Lukas does not have a leash on him during these few months he has open. With that in mind, he types up a reply and heads upstairs to change into a new outfit.

**Emil: Yes. I'll be there in a bit.**

Leon gives him no reply, so Emil heads down the stairs. He makes sure his phone is on him before heading out the door. Mathias, he knows, will not be back for another twenty minutes, plenty of time for him to slip away to the station without being interrogated. Most convenient of all is that if his brother gets off from work early, the path home is in the opposite direction. Emil will not have to worry about confronting Mathias or Lukas while going to the station.

"Look at me," he breathes in the spongy air. "What am I doing?" Before meeting Leon, he would have never considered doing this type of behavior. He would have checked with his brother or called him for permission even when he did not have to. Now, he is leaving without a single word or a note. The less he tells them, the better, he thinks and quickens his pace towards the station.

The Bolt Rails at this hour are packed with people commuting from work and school. Emil moves right on past these people and takes the escalator to the Lightning Rails. The next train arrives in a matter of minutes, and Emil finds a clean, spacious, and comfortable seat. Trip district is on the other side of Holo so he has some time to enjoy himself until then.

Like before, the train takes off with remarkable speed, zipping through Circuit district and arriving at the first station in Wire's market district. No one boards the train at this stop, and in less than thirty seconds, the Lightning Rail moves to the next station. This continues until Retro pulls up. Since it is still the afternoon, the normally festive district looks barren and void of life. There are few pedestrians moving around at the bottom of the station, and there are little to no lights or signs floating in between alleys and streets. Like Wire, no one boards the train, and the train glides into Trip's first station. Here, a few passengers depart and board, most looking like prim businessmen than celebrities like Leon. Some are carrying expensive watches and phone models, Emil notices, making his old model appear inferior by comparison. His hand subconsciously pulls his sleeve over his wrist to hide his watch while he sees the other passengers flip through their phones to observe appointments or contacts. Despite having advanced phone models, however, Emil does not see them use them to make any outgoing calls. Everything is done through professional messaging systems. It makes Emil wonder if they learn to type without errors by hand or by program. If anything, Leon certainly does not have a program that helps him professionally type. His spelling is awful.

The aqua station is the last stop in Trip district. There are skyscrapers looming over the premises already, as if a tidal wave of edifices are frozen in place, but ready to swallow the rest of the city in glass and concrete. The moment Emil departs from the train, his lungs intake a breath full of small water vapors. He feels like he is breathing through a wet cloth and nearly chokes until he covers his mouth with his sleeve and takes in a quick breath of warm, but water-reduced air before continuing through the station.

When he gets to the ground floor, he types up a quick message asking Leon where he is to save him the trouble of manually searching for him. Leon replies by saying he is already at the station, but unlike before, Emil does not see anyone with a large hood or hat.

After searching aimlessly around the station with no success, Emil irritatingly sends another message to his friend.

**Emil: Where are you?**

**Leon: right here. i can see u. **

This is not funny. Emil is hot, tired, and sweating. He can hardly breathe in this hot air. He just wants to know where Leon is. In any case, Leon might be able to see him, but he cannot see Leon. He does not know if that arrogant celebrity is toying with him or not. Perhaps he is even looking at him through a camera of some sort. His search continues for another unsuccessful five minutes before Emil tries again.

**Emil: I can't see you.**

**Leon: im right behind u**

Immediately after reading the message, Emil turns around to find that there is absolutely no one there. No one in a jacket, no one with a cocky smirk, nobody.

Then, without warning—

"So these things work on you, too."

At the sound of Leon's voice, Emil instantly shoots up and lets out a small cry. Someone taps him on the shoulder, and when he looks closely, he sees that it is none other than Leon with a pair of sunglasses.

"L-Le—!" He catches himself before uttering his friend's name. "You scared me! And what do you think you're doing wearing that out in the open?!"

Much to his horror, his friend is wearing nothing but a sleek red vest topped over a plaid shirt and sporting a pair of jeans. In other words, there is nothing draped over his head to conceal him from masses recognizing him out in public. Even in some of his celebrity photos, he must have worn sunglasses. Someone in Trip district is bound to recognize him.

"Don't worry about it, Ice," Leon calmly says with his usual smirk. "I've got it covered."

"You're insane!" Emil cries in a hushed voice. "If someone sees us, we're so dead! My brother's going to kill me!"

"Relax," Leon tells him without batting an eyelash. Emil can faintly see his eyes behind the sunglasses. "These things I've got here are—I'm not joking—manufactured by a company in Altorien. They're called Dubious Ultra Master Blasting sunglasses."

Emil's face scrunches into a lemon-faced frown. "In other words, they're D.U.M.B."

"Hey, I didn't name them," Leon chuckles with a tone of amusement. "Wouldn't you believe it? Yong Soo's a behind-the-scenes inventor."

"_What?_" Leon has lost him at this point.

"Yong Soo? You know—Oh, never mind. If you didn't know who I was, you'll never know who this guy is."

Emil shakes his head. "No, I know he's a celebrity like you, but where does Yong Soo tie into this? And before you ask, I started doing some research on other celebrities after meeting you."

"Er…" Leon goes back on tangent. "So, as I was saying, Yong Soo's a sort of, like, inventor. One of the weird things he invented were these sunglasses that can hide your identity. Weird, I know, but the science behind these are pretty cool."

"Why bring Yong Soo into this at all?"

His friend lets out an irritated sigh. "It's because the ass is my collab partner. He's the guy I mentioned having to work with."

"Oh. So I was right," Emil says under his breath, recalling the time he was guessing who Leon would be working with.

"I swiped these off him after I saw him use them."

Emil's lavender eyes grow wide. "You stole them?"

"Borrowed, not stole," Leon corrects. "There's a fine line between the two. As long as he doesn't know I stole them and give them back later, it's, like, called 'borrowing,' isn't it?"

"You still took them without his permission!" Emil hisses into his ear. "And how do you even know they work?"

Leon chuckles. "You didn't see me even though I was right in front of you, right?"

"That's because you weren't in front of me. You were behind me."

"Wrong. I was in front of you. It's the glasses."

Emil makes a face. He does not understand how something as simple as a pair of glasses can render someone invisible.

"I haven't really figured it out all the way, but I think it either captures a picture of my surroundings or it sends a signal through the viewer's optical nerves. One or the other. My old man never taught me physics."

Neither of the reasons sounds pleasant in the slightest. He does not like the idea of having a pair of sunglasses digging through his optical nerves and making it appear as if nothing is there.

"So…let me get this straight…As long as you wear those glasses, no one will be able to recognize you?"

"Not as long as I keep these on. I even tried them on my agent, and he couldn't see me. It turns out you need a vocal connection to trigger your presence. Something like misdirection, I think."

"Whatever, Leon," Emil sighs, tired of hearing his convoluted explanation. At least he does not have to worry about Leon being identified anymore. "But if you talk with someone, then won't that person recognize you?"

"Not if I lay it low, right?" Leon casually asks.

The thought of having to deal with all the people they might encounter does not entice Emil, but he consents nevertheless.

"Fine," he tells him with a sigh. "So where are we going today?"

"Easy. We're hopping over to Neon."

Emil immediately stiffens. "Neon?" he repeats. "You mean as in Neon district?"

Leon shrugs. "Where else?"

"We—! We can't go there! If it's just the two of us, we need to be twenty-one! We're underage, Leon!"

"Says who?"

"Says—! Oh, forget it." Emil's temper flattens like a deflated balloon, but on the inside, his mind is still steaming with complicated feelings. While it is not unheard of to bring minors into the gambling district, Neon is not the place for young minds nor the faint of heart. Many an aspiration has been crushed at the hands of fixed casinos, skilled dealers, and watchful eyes. Beyond the glamour and glory of awaiting riches and fanciful displays, there is a dark system that sits atop the highest buildings. With that knowledge, it is hard to believe that someone as polite and friendly as Cheng Wang is actually the overseer of the district, settling financial prospects, distributing funds, and organizing events. Since he is Leon's cousin, it makes sense for Leon to have gone to Neon before, but for someone as naïve and inexperienced as Emil, there is no telling what can happen in the wrong locations.

"Even with those dumb glasses on, you really think they're going to let you in without taking them off?" Emil reminds his friend. "Someone's going to recognize you sooner or later, and I'd rather not have it be at Neon." He pauses. "And why Neon? Does it really have to be that place? It couldn't be Retro again? Or even Trip?"

"Not Trip," Leon automatically says right after the last word leaves Emil's lips. "We're not hanging around Retro either."

Emil blinks. "And why is that?"

The celebrity swings his head back, causing his front bangs to bob in the front. "There's someone who might be there, and I don't want to be caught dead running into him—especially with you around."

"Oh, let me guess," Emil sighs, crossing his arms, "it's Yong Soo, isn't it?"

Leon's brow arches. "Hey, maybe you're not so stupid after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you don't look like you're quick on catching up on things, but yeah, Yong Soo's the one I'm trying to look out for. You don't have any idea what it's been like working with that guy, Ice. These three weeks have been a total disaster."

"Enough that you couldn't even tell me about you?" Emil suddenly asks.

Leon stares at him with his piercing golden eyes. "What?"

Knowing he cannot take the question back, Emil drives his point further. "Y-You never called or messaged me after all this time. I thought…" He shakes his head. "Why am I even saying this? You don't care."

"No," Leon insists. "I do care. We're friends, aren't we?"

"I…" Emil bites his lower lip. "Yeah. We are. Or at least I'd like to think we are."

"We're friends, Ice." Leon repeats. "So you were worried that I forgot about you?"

That is it. He knows. With a defeated expression, Emil slowly nods.

"Oh. Don't be so worked up on that. I was busy. Heck, I bet _you _were busy. Don't you prim college students have finals or something during your last days?"

"Well, yes."

"See? So you probably didn't want me bothering you, anyway. Not that I could. Yong Soo and the agents have been hovering over us the entire time trying to do scenes for the movie. It's a full-blown project."

Emil does not believe him. This is too nice a coincidence for Leon to say something like that. If he really was busy, then he should not have found the time to go on a da—a get-together right after Emil finished school. There has to be more to the story.

"You did something, didn't you?"

Leon tilts his head. "Huh?"

"If you were so 'busy' all the time, then how were you able to just out of the blue message me and say we were going on a da—an outing like this?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I just had the time today."

"You're lying," Emil growls. "It's my first day of summer vacation. I barely just got out from my last finals, and you message me. What did you do? I told you I wanted to know the real you, Leon. I didn't think you'd hide this kind of stuff from me."

At that, Leon clicks his tongue. "It's not that big a deal. I just faked an injury and said I needed some time to recover."

Unconvinced, Emil raises an eyebrow. "How did you 'fake' your injury?"

Leon's smirk twists itself into a slight sneer. "Why are you acting like this? This is why I didn't want to tell you the truth. It's because I knew you'd get all newscast reporter on my ass that I told you a white lie." But this is not a white lie, not to Emil. He does not understand why Leon is trying to cover up something like this.

Is it because it is inconvenient to tell him the truth? What sort of reason is that to cover up his tactics? Emil is wondering if this is what it means to even know the real Leon. Perhaps it is to never know him at all. The further he tries to look for answers, the farther he gets from the truth and the blurrier his identity becomes. Emil is not even sure if he should continue looking or stop prying altogether.

"Leon," Emil says, "I want to be your friend. Really, I do. I've never had one before, and it's been nice getting to go to places with you and seeing your family, but if you do this to me, then I don't know if I'll be able to continue trusting you."

The actor does not say anything. Regardless of whether he is listening or not, Emil continues.

"I want to be able to know you so that if something's wrong, I'll know how to be a real friend to you." He almost chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds. This is coming from a person who has never had a friend in his life. He has no credibility whatsoever; for that matter, neither does Leon, but he wants to be the better half in this relationship.

"I see what you're getting at," Leon then says, his voice low and void of arrogance. Emil waits for an elaboration. "You want my trust. Alright. I can give you that." He sticks out his hand for Emil to take. "I promise we'll get back in one piece, Ice. It has to be Neon, though."

"Why?" he asks.

"You're just going to have to trust me."

There is no reason why he should give it to him so easily. Emil, who has never had a friend before, has shut himself from the rest of the world in hopes of only having to truest his soul mate. Now that he has met him, though, the circumstances are different. Leon is neither his genuine friend nor someone he can say he loves, but whatever fates or luck has brought them together wants them to stay that way. This was meant to be from the moment he was born. And so, with a swallow and a hesitant sensation in his fingertips, he moves his hand up to Leon and lets him take it. Leon's hand, while larger than Emil's pale and bony surface, is startlingly warm and soft to the touch. The contact of this other human being gives Emil the reassurance he needs to follow him; it is enough for the spur of the moment to trust him and walk in the direction of Neon district, the gambling district where the lights never sleep.

* * *

The boys' walk does not take to long to complete. Between the aqua station in Trip and the gates leading to Neon, Leon and Emil walk a short four blocks until they reach the concrete walls separating the business district from the gambling district. There are only a handful of security guards at this hour, being that it is in the middle of the afternoon. Neon and Volt are the only districts with gates and security guards stationed at the entrances for sensible reasons: Neon is reserved to adults, and Volt is reserved to the elite. In the case of a little tampering, Leon and Emil are considered both.

"You're sure this is going to work?" Emil nervously asks as the distance between them and the gate decreases with each step.

"Relax, I've done this hundreds of times," his friend reassures him. "Cheng's cool with me hopping over as long as I tell him first."

Emil blinks. "So he knows you do this."

"Yeah."

"Did you tell him this time, too?"

"No."

"Leon!" Emil hisses.

Much to the modest teen's frustration, Leon laughs it off like a harmless prank, but this is no harmless prank. If they are caught, this will go on their permanent records as conducting underage gambling and trespassing. With Leon's connections, he will be able to bury the blotch on this record in a blink of an eye, but Emil lacks the confidence with his humble background. Still, he does not resist when Leon takes him to the edge of the gates, phones out, and sunglasses still on.

A security guard walks over to them with a blank expression. From the corner of his eye, Emil can see the stunning rod used for halting breakers of the law. He read once that they have enough voltage to stun a 130-kilogram man.

"Ya two hopping over ta Neon?" the security guard asks in a gruff, throaty voice like he is rolling a potato in his mouth.

"Yep," Leon shortly answers and brandishes his identification.

Emil's heart skips a beat when the security guard pulls out a scanner and starts the identification process. There are three steps to this procedure: the identification scan, the background scan, and the physical scan. The identification scans are used all over the city in places such as shopping malls, schools, and auditoriums in order to verify a person is a registered or authorized resident of an area. It is the quickest and most accurate of the scans, and it transitions into the background scan. The background scans are mainly used for job interviews, traveling procedures, and district traveling. After passing the identification scan to see if the person is legally registered, the background scan points out any previous criminal, financial, or clinical records that can be deemed suspicious or a threat to society. Emil does not have to worry about this scan with his age being hacked, and he thinks Leon does not, either—so as long as he clears his identification scan first. Lastly, there is the physical scan where human eyes are required to verify the profile found in the person's most current identification. After undergoing medical procedures, it is required by law to update one's profile picture. In any case, this is to ensure that the identification of the person in the city's database matches that of the person's physical body. Like before, Emil does not have to worry about this scan, but he wonders what the security guard will think of his celebrity companion.

"Lessee here…" the security guard mumbles. "You're clear with these two scans. Exactly twenty-one…Just gotta check your faces to make sure yer the real deal." Emil almost flinches when the man looks up from his scanner to his face. He stares at him for a few seconds with hard, calculating gray eyes. Then, he confirms that Emil is good to go, and his breathing lightly eases up. Next is Leon.

"Sir, yer gonna have to take yer sunglasses off."

"Sure," Leon calmly says and removes his glasses. Emil holds his breath again and watches the silent exchange of eye contact. Leon is staring at the guard with a hard expression, his entire face otherwise blank; the security guard is looking at him with the same amount of passive intensity.

Then, after what seems like an eternity, the security guard gives a light nod and signals for the gate to open.

"The two of you are clear," he says and heads over to the entrance to Neon. "Have yerselves a good time, and play responsibly."

"We will, sir," Leon chuckles with a triumphant, smug grin on his face and places his sunglasses back on. Emil does not say anything to him for a good few meters into Neon before finally opening his mouth.

"What did you do back there?" he asks in a cautiously hushed voice.

"The IDs? Oh, I just hacked into the database and tinkered with the ages a little—"

"Not that," Emil snaps. "I know you can do that. I mean, why didn't the security guard recognize you? Your face is everywhere."

Bemused, Leon raises an eyebrow. "Hey, the first time we met, you didn't know who I was."

"But that's besides the point!" Emil hisses through his teeth. "Just seeing the name 'Leon Wang' should have posed questions. How did you change your name and face when he was looking at you?"

"Easy," Leon says without fazing. "I used the Dubious Ultra—Oh, forget it. That really is a shitty name. I used the D.U.M.B. sunglasses to trick his brain. It sends a temporary signal that alters the way you look. I even used it on you back at the station. I've gotta hand it to that idiot. He's a shitty martial artist, but he's a damn good inventor when he wants to be."

The explanation sounds so far-fetched that Emil refuses to believe it. Such technology can be used for extreme security breakthrough measures. Even if Leon is not the one who invented them, the invention is an extremely dangerous device to carry around. There is no telling what someone as reckless as Leon can pull off by hiding his identity.

"L-Leon?" he stammers.

"Yeah?"

"Can you promise me something?"

Leon stops walking and adjusts the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. "What is it, Ice?"

Emil stares past the dark lenses into his golden eyes. He can see his concerned reflection shown in a warped image on convex frames. "After today, I don't want you using those things anymore. Give them back to Yong Soo."

The proposition clearly does not bode well with Leon's point of view. "What? Fuck no, Ice. You know how useful these things are? I don't even have to wear some over-the-top getup or use a wig, and those things are stuffy as—"

"_Leon._" Emil speaks in a firm tone. It is the same tone his brother sometimes uses with him when his behavior or Mathias' falls out of character.

However, his friend is reluctant to listen. Being born in a privileged family, he is not used to someone telling him what to do and what not to do.

"What are you, my mother?" he snaps. "No. I'm keeping them. It makes getting around way easier. Anyway, we're almost in the main part of Neon, Ice—"

"Why is it so hard to listen to reason?" Emil finds himself growling out of building frustration. "I'm just trying to tell you what's wrong, and right. Even if you weren't a celebrity, it's not right to just cheat the system like that." He lets out a bated huff of air. "And if that's the way you're going to act, then I should just go home."

Leon's eyes narrow, and he stops. "Now what are you trying to pull? An ultimatum? For your information, Ice, you're wrong. It's _different _for me because I'm a celebrity. You think I like to walk out in public and have cameras mobbing me and weirdos asking me stupid questions wherever I go? Think about what I have to deal with for just one damn second." His voice begins to rise until it crescendos into an echo that bounces through the street. The pedestrians at this sunny hour are sparse, but Emil cannot help but think that they are attracting unwanted attention. "The reason I even got to meet you on that day our numbers stopped was because I had to fucking sneak out of my hotel room. It wasn't easy. It never is. There. That's the truth. All that stuff I said about sneaking out just being a walk in the park is a lie. Pulling all the strings to even make this day free nearly cost me an arm and a leg—literally. I had to stage an accident and everything. Are you happy now? This is the real me. I'm someone who was practically born and raised to become a star, and not because I wanted to—it was because of my fucking guardian."

Emil is stunned speechless. Anything he can think of saying will just get interpreted as the wrong message with the wrong words. He can only keep quiet as Leon pours his feelings out.

"I told you this before. I've never had someone outside of my circle to call a friend. When I go out of my way to see you, it's not because I'm bored. I really want to see you. I like being with you, Ice. Why the fuck else would I go through all the trouble of cracking my old man's security system and even the fucking city's just to spend a few hours with you?"

"I…Leon…" Emil is at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say…"

"You don't…" Leon lets out a curse and sighs. "You don't need to say anything, Ice. Just tell me you're happy. Then…I'll be happy."

Emil nibbles on his lips and stares into Leon's quivering golden eyes. "This has to be the last time," he says, not backing down from his initial proposition. "They're not yours. A normal person knows that. I want this to be the last time you hide like this."

Hide? Leon's mind processes the different angles he might be referring to that context. Emil can either be referring to his identity or his face. Perhaps both. Interestingly, the double meaning amuses him enough to play along with it. He will return the glasses—but not before taking them apart and stealing a modified patent on them. This will be Yong Soo's punishment for bootlegging his guardian's and cousin's designs.

"Fine. Today's the last day," he tells his friend. "I promise." To make the seal official, he sticks his hand out and waits. As expected, with the right amount of patience, Emil takes his hand. Before he can let go, however, Leon grabs ahold of it, and pulls him down the street.

"Hey!" Emil cries in a startled gasp. "What are you doing?!"

"We're going to Neon, remember?" Leon laughs, returning to his smug self. "I've got the whole day off so we have to have some fun. That's a must, got it?"

To Emil's credit, he almost looks cute when he is mildly irritated. "Fine," he mumbles in a restrained voice. "I didn't know it could be a crime to not have fun." He changes the topic as they pass the first street filled with fanciful love hotels and lifeless bars not open for business yet. "So what's Neon like?"

"Mm, what do you think it looks like?" Leon first starts out with a question.

Emil searches through his thoughts. "I've always heard it was a gambling haven where you can win a lot of money…or lose a lot of money."

Leon laughs. "Sure, that works."

"Is it dangerous?"

The question bothers Leon. Being that his cousin is the overseer of the gambling district, he cannot honestly say it is dangerous for him. He is familiar with the neon-paved streets and buildings adorned with cold-hard heta, blood, and sweat. Still, for someone naïve and unaware of the workings of the world, Neon will swallow up Emil once it gets ahold of him. Leon will not let that happen. Not as long as he has him in his sights.

"No," he says, perfectly masking his inner concerns. "It's not dangerous. Just stay away from stripper clubs and bars, and you'll do just fine."

This makes Emil dryly laugh. "As if we're even technically old enough to go to those places."

"You ever have a drink before?" Leon suddenly asks.

"Huh?" Emil gapes with wide eyes. "No! I'm not stupid. What about you?"

"Maybe," the celebrity vaguely answers. The topic is never dwelled upon after that, so he moves to another question. "What about going to a strip club?"

"That's a stupid question, Leon," the under-aged student emotionlessly responds.

"Yeah, neither have I. Cheng said those places are for the barbaric." He pauses. "Well, have you ever seen porn before?"

The subject comes so suddenly and casually that Emil has to take a moment to correctly process the question.

"Wha…? Wh-What makes you think I do something as lewd as that?"

"Well, you don't look like you get out much, and your social skills are really awkward so I thought maybe, you know, you just like to surf on the net and—"

"I don't!" Emil cries, a rosy pink complexion blushing on his otherwise pale cheeks. The reaction makes Leon want to tease him further, but he understands how fragile he is on the inside and drops the topic and shifts into something more relatable.

"So have you ever had a crush on someone?"

Emil swallows and starts to finger his sleeve with his spare hand. He is still holding hands with Leon, and he wonders if he can feel his palms starting to moisten or not.

"No," he quietly murmurs. "I never did because I knew I'd meet someone else one day."

"Me, you mean," Leon clarifies. Emil slowly nods. "You weren't what I expected, either, Ice."

He lowers his silver eyebrows. "I didn't say anything."

"But you're thinking it, aren't you?"

Emil cannot hide that fact. "Yeah. I really thought you'd be a…girl…"

"Same here," Leon smiles as he pictures what his soul mate might look like as a girl. The more he dwells on it, Emil does not look too far off. He has slender wrists, pale skin, and a large but gentle pair of lavender eyes. He can be as beautiful as any girl he comes across, maybe even more attractive.

On that note, Emil thinks to bring up something else. "Um, so, have you ever…?" His voice trails off.

His friend is listening. "What? Just say it, Ice."

Emil swallows. "You're an actor, right? So have you ever had to, you know…kiss someone?"

"Oh. Yeah, I have." Leon's response comes out just as casually as responding to what he ate for breakfast.

Curious, he continues to ask questions. "Were you scared?"

"No. I knew those actresses were just doing it because of the script. Some of them were good."

Emil furrows his eyebrows. "What makes someone a good kisser? Wait. How would you even know?"

"I practiced."

"_Practiced?_" Emil echoes. "Who'd you practice with?"

Leon chuckles, knowing the answer will shock his friend. "You don't wanna know. It's going to be weird."

"Is it someone I know?"

"Sure, you've seen this person around."

Emil falls into silence as he thinks about the people Leon has introduced him to. "Is it Lien?" he guesses.

"Playing the guessing game, are we?"

"So it's Lien?"

Leon shakes his head. "Nope."

"But…" Emil searches through his memories. As far as he is concerned, Lien is the only woman Leon has ever introduced him to. If that is the case, then whoever Leon practiced on has to be a man. "Wait…So is it Cheng?"

"I wish," Leon laughs, picturing the thought of kissing his respected cousin. No matter how much he respects him, he cannot imagine ever falling into a romantic relationship with him. He honors Cheng's status that much.

Then, Emil finally falls on the last person he can think of. The thought of imagining Leon with him is beyond absurd. He is not sure how it could have come to be, but he still throws out the name.

"I'm out of names, but…Kasem?"

"Bingo," Leon grins.

"Wh-Wha…? You're joking." Emil's lips are trembling.

"He's a good kisser." Another casual response.

Emil's voice seizes up into a dry choke. The thought of someone as cocky and sly as Leon with someone as light-hearted and easygoing as Kasem is difficult to wrap his head around, to say the least. For whatever reason, he has no trouble imagining Kasem being with Lien, but Leon with Kasem is an entirely different story.

"Don't believe me?" Leon chuckles. "I can show you if you want."

"No!" Emil cries out a little too loudly at the sudden brashness of that offer. "I-I'm good. It's just kind of strange how Kasem's the one who taught you and all." He blinks. "You're really being serious about that?"

"I'm serious. You can even ask Lien and Cheng."

"No, thank you," Emil declines with a slight shudder. In truth, he does not doubt Leon's claim, but an inner part of him is upset with the fact that Leon has kissed other people in the past. Sure, it is an understandable fact since Leon is a famous actor, but he almost feels…how does he put it…? Jealous?

To repress the thoughts, he furiously shakes his head which Leon catches.

"Something wrong, Ice?" he asks.

"Nothing," he replies. "Just a little tired."

"Huh. Well, we're almost there. If you're tired, we can rent a room until, like, the afternoon's up. The real fun begins at night, anyway." Emil wants to ask what Leon means by a room, but he declines the offer and says he will be fine for the rest of the day. At the back of his head, he does not understand why he would be jealous of Leon kissing other people. Is it because Leon is his soul mate?

No. He is being ridiculous, he thinks. Leon Wang is a friend and nothing more. There is nothing more to their relationship than that. Of course, Leon cannot quite be considered a true friend, either. There are times when Emil doubts their relationship, but he is close to being a real friend nonetheless. He wants them to stay this way.

"Hey, check it out, Ice." Leon points to the opening of the street where the sides of the buildings part and make way for a blinding rainbow of white lights all around. Emil has to practically squint in order to recognize the zany architecture of the towering buildings. All of a sudden, he feels something dark drape over his eyes and rest on the bridge of his nose. Leon has lent him his sunglasses. The moment the glare of the sun shies away behind the protective coating, Emil's jaw drops open. In that moment the insufferable humid air leaves his mind at the remarkable sight to behold.

Leon lets go of his hand for a short moment, and sweeps his arms out like an extravagant showstopper. With an elegant bow and a wide smile, he formally introduces Emil to Holo's official gambling district.

"Welcome to Neon, Ice," he says with a polite voice. "I hope you'll have a good time here. Let our second date commence."

* * *

_I don't really have much to say for this chapter, but thank you again for the kind words, readers~_


	11. XI

Back in Circuit, a dark shadow looms over the resident of two lone brothers and an occasional—actually, make that annoyingly frequent—visitor. The peak of summer is slowly approaching, and yet, despite that, the air feels remarkably colder and frigid than ever. Mathias with his sunny mood and usual widespread smile can feel the miasma oozing off his soul mate's body like an underlying stench coming out of its depths of a rotting body.

"Let me get this straight…" Lukas speaks with a voice so cold and deathly, one can easily mistaken him for a ghost or demon from a supernatural horror movie. "You just left to get eggs. _Eggs._"

"Y-You were out, and I thought it would be good to get some, so Ice said he would watch the house, and—"

"You idiot!" Lukas shrieks. This side of his is as rare as a blue moon, but no matter how many times Mathias sees it, it never fails to surprise him. Behind Lukas' stoic, frozen face lays an icy fire that consumes everything in its path. He becomes recklessly unstoppable when his buttons are pressed, and there is little anyone can do until he calms down. Now, the more he thinks on it, Emil is the only one who has ever been able to calm Lukas down, but he is not present. He is gone without a trace.

"L-Lukas…" Mathias says in a wavering tone. "Calm down. I'm sure Ice just went to go out to get something from the market. Maybe he got bored or…something?"

Lukas glares icicles at the useless baker, his thin nostrils practically breathing steam. Whether this is because the room has frozen over or because Lukas is brimming with hot air is something Mathias cannot identify.

"If he did that, then why didn't either of us see him on the way here?" he asks in a cold voice.

"Ah…Good point. I didn't think about that." He lets out a small, capitulating cry when Lukas jabs him in his forehead with sharp nails. If Emil were here, he might have made a comment about how it is a good thing Mathias' head is so thick.

"You never think about anything," he hisses with a bite. "That's why you let Ice leave."

"Lay it off, Lukas," Mathias tries to say in a calm voice, but the edge of his voice is laced with pain. "I'm sure he's fine. He's a grown man. He can take care of himself if he thinks he can."

Lukas thinks otherwise. "He can't. And I swear on your thick, empty head, if he's hanging out with that Leon kid…"

"N-Now, Lukas, Ice wouldn't do that, would he?" Mathias nervously chuckles.

"He would. He's done it once already."

"That doesn't mean he'll do it again without telling us. Try to think rationally."

Lukas utters a dry laugh. His face is twisted into a cold, sarcastic smile that eerily matches the state of his character. "Rationally, you say?" he smiles with a freezing stare. "Look who's telling me to think rationally when you can't even keep an eye on my brother for one second." Mathias thinks he means to say more, but like an off switch, Lukas suddenly snaps his mouth into a still silence and shuts off. The cold air in the room dissipates, and the only thing that can be heard is the faint sound of the neighbors' kids laughing outside.

Then, without saying so much as a word, Lukas grabs his phone and watch and heads out of the front door.

"Lukas?" Mathias gapes. "H-Hey…! Lukas, where are you—? Lukas, wait up!"

He immediately pushes himself back from the table without tucking his chair in and runs after him. The door automatically closes behind him, and soon, the house is completely empty. On a tray in the kitchen, there are rows after rows of uneaten bunny buns waiting for the mouths that will never consume them.

* * *

Neon is appropriately named. There are endless sights of vivid colors and songs to be heard. The further Emil and Leon walk, the noisier and more alive it becomes. Leon points out a street at an intersection that will lead them in the direction of the center, where the gambling hub of the country is located.

Ahead, there are pipes and highways of colorful glass tubes intertwining in cubic patterns and networks. Automated vehicles and Cubes hover in mid-air displaying advertisements and playing jingling music, setting the young student's heart racing in excitement. Beyond the pipes of unlit neon tubes are signs after signs like an archaic bookstore after a hurricane. Billboards, dark bulbs, and hovering advertisements stack in an assortment of wild attractions. Each advertisement is unique, specially designed to catch the eyes and drive their products. Emil has never seen or heard of some of these places or items, but a small part of his childlike mind desires whatever is displayed on the screens.

Further into the main square are buildings rising up like sprouts after the dusk of a fire. Beaming yellows, sharp blues, piercing green, and poignant pinks stand out above all else in contrast to the slick black and red floors, paved like the colors of casino chips, broken dreams, and monetary wonderment. Here, in the district where stories and dreams have been made or shattered, the entire place looks like a theme park for the adult mind. The further in they go, the heavier the security. Posters turn from advertisement screens to refreshment distributors and directories. There are even security Cubes on patrol, each one carefully equipped with a small jolt of electricity to render cheaters helpless to defenses. Despite their intimidating arsenal, Emil cannot help but find them to perfectly match the rest of the festive atmosphere as they display the same friendly "^v^" symbol on their screens like in Blossoms.

"Ice, this way."

The spell on Emil's eyes and mind temporarily wears off just enough to respond to his friend's call. He gives the sunglasses back to Leon, and his friend's warm hand takes him to a building with a sign erected high at the top. While Emil cannot see it from his position, the same name is painted in frosted spray paint over the revolving glass doors. Unfortunately, the characters, Emil recognizes, are spelt in Jiang, and he instantly forgets the elegant strokes and lines upon reaching the other side.

"Lotus."

"Eh?" Emil blinks incredulously at his friend for a split second at the word.

"That character in Jiang spells 'Lotus,' if you were wondering."

"O-Oh…" He stares at it and studies the way the strokes cross over and move with each other in the form of art. He thinks there is no other language that can look as beautiful as Jiang. In comparison, his language is considerably drab and dull with letters composing words in different arrangements.

Being so wrapped up in his studious state, he almost fails to notice Leon tugging harder at his hand. It takes three tugs to finally get his attention, and by then, Leon is losing patience.

"Hey, don't tell me you're going to make out with the door next," he sneers. "There's way more than just a fancy glass printing to see. Come on."

As he leads Emil along, he thinks to ask a question to keep his focus on him.

"So has Lukas ever been to Neon before?" he asks him as they push through the sparse crowds of people. It is understandable that there are few people at this hour, but come nighttime, the entire make-up of this ground floor will change.

"Once," Emil tells him. "And it wasn't even because he wanted to come here. He only came here because…Oh, never mind."

"What?" Leon presses. "C'mon, you brought it up, so now, you've gotta tell it."

"It's embarrassing."

The comment makes Leon chuckle. "Couldn't be more embarrassing than the story about how you got your nickname, could it?"

He has him there, Emil thinks. So, with a reluctant grunt and crease between his brow, he tells Leon about Lukas' one time in the gambling district.

"It was Mathias' twenty-fourth birthday, and Lukas turned twenty-one, like, around a month ago. He just wanted to go somewhere fun because Lukas didn't do anything for his twenty-first birthday, and he thought it would be like a double birthday party."

Leon blinks. "So Lukas told this story to you first?"

"I got both sides of the story. I put together what truth I could get from the two of them."

His friend laughs. "So in other words, both of them fudged some parts."

"They made the other look like an idiot—well, Lukas made Mathias like one. Mathias just talked about how great he was, and everything."

"Oh."

"Anyway, the reason Lukas didn't have time to spend with me during his birthday was because, well, I got sick."

Leon frowns at why he even bothers bringing it up. "Sick?"

"I-It happened a lot when I was younger, I think it had to do with because of the fact that, well…you know…my parents dying and all. I-I don't mean to be depressing; it's just that, that's what really happened."

"No, I get it." He thinks of what to say next. "So you're over it now?"

Emil presses his lips together. "I don't think you can ever get over the death of your parents, but if you're talking about accepting it, then, yeah, I've done that." He ends the discussion of that topic and returns to the original story.

"Of course, Lukas didn't want to go to Neon. He was always worried about what might have happened to me if he left me at home. I was fifteen by then. I could take care of myself."

"Sure, you could."

Not knowing if Leon is being sarcastic or not, Emil decides that is best to ignore him and continue.

"But I was doing fine with school, and my health was fine, so Mathias finally got Lukas to go with him. They went to this place called…what was it? I think it was called Say Koray?"

He stops when he notices Leon trying and unsuccessfully hiding a smile on the corner of his lips.

"What?" he snaps. "Is something funny?"

"I'm not gonna lie, Ice. The way you say the name of that casino is fucking _hilarious_."

"Oh, is it?" Emil says as though he is challenging him.

"It's pronounced _sa-ku-ra._ Say it with me so no one laughs at you again. Sa-ku-ra."

"Sa-ku-ra?" Emil repeats.

"Yep. I know that because my agent loves the heck out of those flowers."

"It's a flower?"

"Yeah, Ice," Leon chuckles at how uninformed his friend is. "All the casinos in Neon district are named after flowers the way the restaurants in Retro are named after colors."

"Huh. I never knew that."

"You learn something new every day, Ice."

Emil furrows his eyebrows. "So what did _you_ learn today?"

Leon smirks, a devious gleam in his golden eyes. "_I _learned that you didn't know how to pronounce 'sakura.'"

"Ha ha. Very funny," he sarcastically laughs. "Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"I'm listening."

Emil decides to finish before arriving at whatever their next destination is. "Mathias somehow ended up taking Lukas over to…Sakura…Did I say that right?"

"Yeah."

"Right. Sakura. They went there just to gamble. Mathias mostly. He'll tell you otherwise, but he lost a lot that day. A _lot._"

"Your definition of a lot is different than mine, Ice," Leon pompously points out.

Emil's eyes narrow. "Ooh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Well, to Mathias and to me, for that, it was a lot. Lukas was _pissed. _But after that, Mathias thought maybe Lukas had a lucky streak so they went to play craps."

"Dice game," Leon nods familiarly. "Not a favorite of mine, but Cheng likes it."

"Hmm." Emil wonders how good at gambling his cousin must be in order to be the overseer of the Neon district; if anything, Cheng must be pretty good if not adequate, he decides and wraps up the story. "Long story short, Lukas ended up winning back everything Mathias lost. The other part of that is that Mathias split up from Lukas for a while after my brother decided to keep the money. I mean…he's the one who won it, not Mathias. And then, Lukas decided it was better to look for Mathias just in case something happened to him, and he found him at a stripper club."

"Huh?" That throws Leon for a turn. He is looking more intently at him now.

"Yeah, well, I guess one of the things Mathias always wanted to see was a club like that, so he went to one."

"How'd your brother even find him?"

"It's not hard to point out someone with hair like my brother's soul mate, Leon. Trust me."

"I will there," he says, amused.

"After that, Mathias came home with an empty wallet and a few bruises on his face. His parents wouldn't let him work because they thought his face would scare away the customers. At least he got a few days off after that."

Leon bursts out laughing. "And his parents are still cool with your brother for letting him get into that situation?"

Emil shrugs. "It's a soul mate thing, I guess. Like I said, Lukas and Mathias go way back."

"Hmm. Nice story, Ice." At this point, they are in front of what appears to be a receptionist desk. Instead of a Cube in its place, there is a petite woman dressed in a wrinkle-free tea-green vest. Her oily brown hair is meticulously tightened behind her head without a single strand out of place; it is like she is not even real, Emil thinks, but her overly exaggerated smile says otherwise.

"Good afternoon," she greets them. "How may I help you?"

"I want a room," Leon tells her with a smooth voice. The entire time, he does not remove his sunglasses, but Emil can see the woman starting to blush. He resists the urge to roll his eyes and waits for the conversation to finish. At the back of his head, he is also wondering why they would need a room in the first place. Lukas will never allow him to stay at a place in Neon overnight. Knowing Leon is with him does not improve the situation, either.

"Oh, not a problem," the woman continues to smile. "What room would you like?"

"I'm sure you can work something out," Leon says, slipping a credit card from his wallet and handing it to the woman. Emil does not notice anything at first, but upon closer inspection, he sees that the credit card is not the only thing the wealthy actor gives her.

After a moment, the receptionist types up a few figures into her keyboard and hands back just the credit card with a brighter smile.

"Thank you for choosing Lotus, Mr. Kaoru*. Your room is already registered under your name. All you have to do is present a form of identification to the elevator, and you're all set. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No. That's all." To Emil's exasperation, Leon adjusts his glasses and gives the woman a kind smile before taking him to the elevator. When they are out of hearing range, there are several questions ready to pour out of his lips.

"What was that all about?" he asks, wanting to look back at the receptionist to see if the transaction he made was genuine. "Why did she call you Kaoru?"

"Just a silly alias I use. It's the most efficient one, so I just use it from time to time. I even have a credit score associated with that name, so I look like less of a machine to any security measures."

With that question out of the way, Emil moves on to another. "How much heta did you give her?"

"Just a couple hundred," Leon says as naturally as saying his hair is brown.

"A couple hundred?" Emil repeats with a flat voice.

"Yeah. Works every time. Just give a little tip to the receptionists, and they upgrade your room, no questions asked. Oh, we're going this way, if I remember correctly, Ice."

"A couple hundred?" Emil repeats again.

"Ice, did your brain break?" Leon chuckles.

"Leon, I can do a lot with a 'couple' hundred heta."

"Like…?"

"I can get a new book bag and new watch. Maybe even a new phone. Someone with less fortunate standards could get weeks of food or pay the rent for an apartment. Just saying."

But Leon just clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Ice, you're forgetting that being a celebrity is hard work. It's not exactly easy coming up with my own stunts, but then, you wouldn't know that since you don't watch my movies."

Emil has to agree with him there, but that does not mean his opinion about Leon's spending habits changes. "It's still not right," he grumbles.

Leon chuckles, amused at how little his friend knows about the customs of the elite. "Ice, Wang Studio donates millions to charities and scholarships every year. Have you really been doing your research?"

"Well…" Emil feels his cheeks getting hot. "Not really on Yao's company. I try to stick with just you."

"Cute," he comments, making Emil's cheeks grow hotter.

"Well, what about the room?" he asks Leon a different question to distract himself from his strange physiological reactions.

"What about it?"

"She didn't even tell you where we're going to be staying. And the key's just your I.D., right? How are we supposed to know where we're going to stay?"

But his answer will have to wait. By now, they are at the foot of the elevator doors. As instructed, Leon swipes his phone on the scanner and waits for the elevator bell to sound. A soft _ding _chimes atop a soft pink light, and the brass doors open, revealing tunnels of…

"Water?" Emil blinks. It is like an underwater version of the elevator ride at the Antenna Tower; there is a large body of water surrounding all the elevators with a thick sheet of transparent glass in between them. There are no fish to be found, but there is plenty of aquatic plant life. Most of the plants, Emil observes, have long dangling roots that trail nearly to the bottom of a murky pool. While he is staring at the view, Leon takes a moment to swipe his phone on the inside scanner. The scanner reads his identification, closes the sliding door, and begins its ascend to their designated room.

All the while, as they are slowly going up, Emil is mesmerized by how the waters progress from a muddy cloud and a forest of roots to a clear pool with spiky pink flowers and large green leafs floating on the surface.

"Leon, look!" he gasps and excitedly points out of the window, an innate childlike wonder breaking through his previously skeptical shell.

His friend leans over and looks at the flowers growing smaller and smaller with the continuing ascend. "Oh, those? You've never seen them before?" Emil shakes his head. "Those are lotus flowers, specially engineered kinds that bloom for a long time. When we reach the top, you'll be able to smell them."

"They're beautiful…" Emil breathes in awe at the fragile pink and white colors of the pointy petals. He is amazed a casino would be able to even take care of them in an odd location such as an elevator background. Then again, a lot is possible in the advanced Tekniq Era.

"Those are Cheng's and Kasem's favorite flowers," Leon tells him with a soft smile. "They represent purity—but it's a kind of purity you can only attain after going through a shit-ton of struggling."

Emil furrows his eyebrows. "Why's that?"

"You noticed how the water at the bottom was full of mud, right?"

"Yeah?"

"It's because lotus roots tend to grow in muddy water. Their roots are really tubular. Tasty, too. You have to eat some one day." Emil makes a mental note of it while Leon continues talking. "But it's really unexpected, right? You wouldn't usually think something that comes from a root that grows in the mud becomes something so beautiful and fragile…and so pure. Kasem says their growth is symbolic to something like enlightenment."

Emil turns to him. "Do you believe that?"

He shrugs. "Never really thought about it too much. I let him believe what he wants to believe."

The elevator soon reaches the top with another _ding_, and Leon and Emil exit. The moment Emil steps out, he can smell something delicately sweet from a peculiar source. This must be what Leon meant when he said he would smell the lotus flowers when they reached the top. It is a pleasant smell like the sweet pea flowers from Mathias' backyard garden mixed with a dash of vanilla from his family's cakes.

"You smell that, don't you?" Leon smiles. "Cheng's always liked that smell."

"I can see why."

"Yeah, whatever. We're almost there."

It does not take them too long to find where their room is located; after all, there is only one room on this floor.

"Really?" Emil blankly stares. "Only one room? This hotel seriously only has one room per floor?"

"Only for the penthouse suite, Ice," Leon chuckles, spinning his phone in his hand. He leaves Emil to mentally absorb that knowledge while he goes up to the door and presses his phone to the scanner. With a green confirmation light, the door clicks open, and Leon pushes it open.

"After you, Mr. Steilsson," he says, sweeping his hand inside like a concierge.

Emil does not appreciate the gesture, but he walks inside, regardless. The room is already completely lit with white furniture galore. White, white, white. He worries that he might get something dirty just by running his hand on the surface of anything other than the floor, which happens to be a dark shade of green. The further he goes, the more the room opens up into a large dome complete with a glass ceiling and fine-tempered beams. An ivory piano rests at one end of the room while a fireplace made with an unconventional construction of marble rests at the other end. Emil wonders if the fires started in the fireplace are real or stimulated. When he looks to his left, a full bar fitted with a marble countertop sits in the wall, fully stocked with fancy-looking bottles of drinks Emil cannot even name. Behind the bar, Emil thinks he can see a large kitchen with—of course, white cabinets and stark-white tile floors.

Dismissing the living area, Leon leads Emil to one of the rooms past the piano. Despite the privileged actor saying it is a guest room, Emil still cannot believe how fancy it looks. The bed looks like it can fit two, maybe three, of his mattresses and still have room for a small pillow fort. Fluffy white sheets are stacked sky-high and topped with cloud-like cushions and fitted pillows. A white-framed television screen sits across a large dresser with a remote at the side of the bed's nightstand. On top of the dresser is a pool of what looks like water, but Leon tells him it is incense oil.

"It's clear just because it looks nicer," he says to Emil as he continues to browse the room openmouthed. "If you want, we can light a candle, and the room will smell like lotus flowers. Or if you want, we can ask for something else."

Emil is awestruck. "Th-This…This is all so…"

"What? Fancy? Nice? Expensive-looking?"

"_White._"

"Oh." Leon smirks. "Yeah, I guess it's that, too."

Connected to the guest bedroom is its own full bathroom complete with a bathtub, shower area large enough to fit a family of four, a toilet in a separate room, and marble-coated sinks. Instead of brass fittings for the faucets and nozzles, there is plain porcelain; Emil suspects this hotel uses the most tempered kind.

Once he is finished looking at the guest bedroom, Leon leads him to the master bedroom, a place that looks nearly as big as the living area in the middle of the suite. A large bed complete with silken canopies rests in the middle of a room full of clean white walls and lotus pictures and paintings. The bathroom is as big as the guest bedroom and its bathroom put together with two sinks, a bathtub the size of a small pool, two equally large shower stalls, and a closet that looks like it can fit Emil's entire room inside of it. The walk-in closet is empty save for two changes of robes, perhaps one for each partner if a couple checked into this room. All towels, glasses, and changes of slippers and complimentary goods are also provided in pairs.

"Finished looking yet?" Leon asks him when Emil returns to the living room.

"It really is the penthouse suite…" Emil softly says.

This makes his friend burst out laughing. "What, you mean you didn't know we were going to take it? Ice, this is the life of luxury. There was, like, this really old saying they had way back when…How'd it go? You only live once, I think. So, d'you like it?"

"I…" Emil looks around, trying to find something to lean his opinion in the other direction, but the room is absolutely gorgeous. He may never get a chance to see this kind of place again, let alone ever hope to afford it. So, for now, he accepts Leon's generosity and goes with a compliment and some gratitude.

"I-It's really nice," he says in an unsure voice. "Really, thank you for taking me here." He is about to say more, but Leon pats him hard on the back, making his sputter a light cough.

"Aw, and you were the one who was all like 'Ooh, I don't wanna come here, Leon. My brother will kill me.' You still thinking that?"

At the mention of his brother, a crucial question springs up to the surface of Emil's mind.

"My brother!" he exclaims. "Crap! If he finds out where I went, he's really going to kill me! Leon, how long are we staying here for?"

"The entire night, Ice. That's why I even bothered renting out this place."

Did he hear that right?

"Wait, wait, wait." He takes a breath and exhales. "When you said 'the entire night,' were you seriously saying the entire night?"

"What else would I be saying?"

"Leon. No."

"And I say yes. I worked my ass off to get this day for us."

"But Lukas will—"

"Do you have a brother complex or something? You've been bringing him up a lot, you know."

Emil's brow twists into a deepened furrow. "Unlike you with your cousins, Lukas is all I have, Leon. And unlike you, I have to live with him. You can just go somewhere else if you want, like what you're doing right now."

Leon does not see it that way, but he is not in the mood to argue. He can very well live with his guardian, but even if they live in the same suite, their schedules never make time for each other. There are even times when Leon and Yao never see each other for months.

"Why did you rent this place out?" Emil asks. "And tell me the truth. This isn't a date or outing or…whatever it is you want to call this. This is something people like married couples do."

"It's a date," Leon stubbornly insists.

"I—th—!" Emil's voice chokes up when his friend calls it a date. "Have you ever _been_ on a real date, Leon?"

"Have _you_?"

"Well….no," he shamefully admits, "but at least I was trying to be faithful to my soul mate." He flops his hand over at his friend. "But if I knew I was going to be stuck with someone like you, I might have opened my options up a little."

Leon flicks his head back. "Say what you want, Ice. Any woman you would've ended up with would never compare to me."

"No, they wouldn't." Emil does not care at this point if Lean can detect his sarcasm. He sees his friend preparing to make a comeback when the sound of his phone going off silences them both.

"Ooh, you'd better get that, Ice," Leon huffs. "It's either Lukas or Mathias 'cause those are the only two people in your life, am I right?"

"Shut up," he grunts and answers it. He wants to go to another room, but he thinks Leon will go out of his way to boldly follow him. So, instead, he stays put and takes the call. "Hello? Lukas?"

A death voice as cold as ice speaks into his ear, sending a shiver through his ear that drops to his neck and makes him shudder. "Ice. Where. Are you?"

Emil swallows. What is he supposed to tell him? He looks over at Leon who silently mouths what appears to be "Trip." With no better answer to offer, Emil shakily and hesitantly answers, "Uh…Trip?"

"You don't sound so sure," Lukas blatantly declares. "Where are you in Trip?"

Leon then mouths "zoo."

"The zoo," Emil automatically answers.

"The zoo," Lukas echoes. "What are you doing at the zoo right after your last day of school?"

"Celebrating," he says.

"That's unlike you." A pause. "Are you with anyone?"

"Yes." He does not want to lie to him about that. "I'm with a friend."

"You don't have friends," Lukas says with stinging words. "You're with Leon, aren't you?"

Emil bites his bottom lip. "So what if I am?"

"It's a date, isn't it?"

The words come so abruptly that at first, Emil is not sure if he heard him correctly. Flustered and struggling to untangle his tongue, he needs to take a moment before he can reply to his brothers' question.

"N-No, he just invited me to go somewhere since it's my last day. He's off for the day, so, since the two of us are free, it just worked out, is all." The truth slowly starts to spill from his mouth like water pouring out of a leaking basket. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Leon grinding his teeth together, trying to prevent himself from butting in, taking the phone, and seizing the reins of the conversation. There is no doubt that his quick-tongued friend can do a better job of explaining things to Lukas, but if these situations arise in the future, Emil thinks he might as well try to take control while he still can.

"Wait there, then," Lukas says. "I'm coming to get you. It's been a while since I've been to the zoo, myself."

"No!" Emil shouts into the phone, his heart suddenly bursting into a rapid-fire of beats per minute. "Y-You're going to ruin everything. I can take care of things. Just let Leon and me do things without you looking over me." His lips trembling, he adds on a shaky "P-Please…"

There is a long pause in the phone. For a moment, Emil thinks his brother has hung up and is on his way to Trip Zoo, but as the silence continues, Emil thinks he can hear something other than static in the phone.

"C'mon…the kid is…fun!"

"…piece of…Not going to let some…"

"…but…!"

"…once."

"Mathias?" Emil softly whispers. Just then, his brother's voice comes back online.

"Here's the thing, Ice," he says. "You will send me a picture of you and Leon every five minutes—"

"_Five minutes?_" he echoes in utter shock.

"You have ears, Ice. Use them for something. Again, every five minutes, you will send me a picture of you and Leon. I want to know what sort of animals you're seeing, too, while you're at it."

"But—!" Emil's head is racing. Where they are, it is impossible to get to Trip district in five minutes, let alone recreate a scenario where it looks like they are at the zoo. If Lukas finds out he is lying to him, they will be in hot water. Emil can practically feel the scorching hot pressure caving in on him. His head is beginning to hurt, as it has not recovered from his finals.

"One picture every five minutes," Lukas says again. "You can do that, can't you, Ice?"

"Uh…yeah, but…isn't five minutes a little excessive? I don't know how long we're going to be here." He thinks about bringing up the subject of staying overnight in the hotel. "Um…Lukas…"

"Who are you talking to?" his brother asks in a mockingly innocent voice.

Emil curses. "Brother, what would you say to me staying in…" He momentarily pauses to look at Leon who is mouthing "Trip" again. "…Trip for the night—?"

"No."

The rate at which Lukas answers that barely finished question makes Emil cringe. Staying overnight appears to be out of the question.

"We—" Emil swallows. "It won't be in the same room or anything. Leon showed me the place earlier, and it's really nice. I can…I can send pictures of the place if you want."

"If you want to stay over, you'll have to let me watch you for the night." His brother sounds serious about that statement.

"The entire night?" Emil frowns. "You mean like video chat?"

"Yes."

"But that's creepy!"

"Then I expect you home by six tonight. That's when the zoo closes, doesn't it?"

Emil lets out another curse. He looks doubtfully at Leon, hoping he has a solution to this predicament. Finally, Leon cannot take it anymore. He stretches his arm out and beckons for the phone. Emil eagerly hands it over, not want to walk over the broken glass scenario that is building lies to his brother.

"Hello, is this Lukas?" Leon speaks. While tensions are not any lower—and higher if anything—Emil breathes a small sigh of relief. However, unlike Emil, Leon shuts off the speaker and talks privately to Lukas. Until Leon's conversation is over, Emil can only speculate at what they might be saying.

"Uh-huh. I promise, Lukas, your brother will arrive back completely unharmed. A video recording is something we can manage."

Emil scowls at how formally he can sound. His original tone of contempt and arrogance melts away when talking with people of importance. He wonders if this happens with all cases like this. Then again, that is the magic of being an actor.

"…Yes. I will do that. There is only professionalism in our relationship, Lukas, I can assure you that much. Oh, and tell Mathias I'm still looking forward to visiting his family's bakery.

"…Heh. Yeah, but what are you going to do about that? I know. I can relate. The fame gets to you. Sure. Yes. Have a nice—Oh." Leon stops and removes the phone. "Ice, your brother wants to talk to you."

Emil cautiously takes the phone and answers it. "Hello?"

"Alright, your 'friend' promised he wouldn't do anything to you, Ice, but just in case, I'm having Mathias watch you, and I'll be watching Leon for the night."

Emil does not like the sound of that proposal one bit. This is turning out to be a nightmare of an outing. He is not sure what he can even call it anymore. "Security surveillance" sounds more appropriate for what has become of his day.

"How are you and Mathias going to stay up all night?" he thinks to ask.

"Coffee and a new creation of Mathias' will do the trick." Emil thinks he must mean the bunny buns. "Well, if that's all clear, you're free to enjoy the rest of your date, Ice."

"It's _not _a date, Lu—Brother," Emil snorts. "It's just an outing."

"Call it whatever you want," he casually replies akin to Leon's manner of speaking, "you can't hide what it really is, but I should tell you something important before I go, Ice. Is the speaker on?"

Emil presses the phone down on his ear. "No."

"Well, that Leon character isn't someone who can be trusted. Whatever he's saying to you, and whatever fancy things he's pulling out of his ass, don't trust his character. He's a celebrity, Ice. With his face always in front of a camera, there's no telling what sort of person he is when the lights are off."

"He's Leon Wang, Brother," Emil frowns. "There's no one to hide from me. I've never seen his movies, so there's nothing to judge him by, just who he is right now."

Lukas falls into an uneasy silence before starting back up. "Tell me: is the Leon Wang you know really the real Leon Wang?"

Emil blinks. "Of course he is. I told him that."

"You told him?"

"Y-Yes. More or less in different words—but with the same meaning."

"Ice…I know you mean well of yourself and of Leon, but you need to be careful. If nothing else, that is the only thing I can tell you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Brother, you do," Emil begrudgingly sighs, wishing his brother will hang up and leave them in peace. Even after he hangs up, there will still be the matter of taking that periodic five-minute picture. He is not looking forward to that.

"I hope you're telling the truth because Leon certainly doesn't. Goodbye, little brother."

"Bye," Emil says and gratefully hangs up. Once he pulls the phone away, it takes a moment for him to realize his palms are cold and clammy from his apprehension.

"So what'd he say?" Leon asks.

Not one to tell him of what Lukas warned him about, Emil tells a little lie. "He said something about making sure I squeeze every heta out of you while you're still young and in shape."

Leon bursts out laughing to his relief. "Ha! So that's what he thinks? Shit, Ice, I think I'll be rich long after I lose both those things."

With no idea on how to respond to that, Emil keeps quiet and thinks about how they are going to explain their absence from Trip Zoo.

"Um, so about that picture thing…How are we going to…?"

"Got it covered," Leon chuckles. The meager amount of energy he invests in these nail-biting matters boils Emil's blood. Is there nothing this guy takes seriously? "You see, all we have to do is send your brother a photo with a time stamp pretty much."

"Yeah? But how are we supposed to prove that we're at the zoo and not here in Neon?"

"You don't give my genius enough credit, Ice. Just a little photo manipulation and programming, and we're good to go." To prove his point, Leon takes his business phone out, grabs Emil by the shoulder without telling him, and snaps a quick photo with Emil's eyes in complete shock in contrast to Leon's haughty smile.

"Wha…! Leon, what the heck!" He launches his hand out to Leon in anger and embarrassment, but the celebrity takes a small step back and trips him with the tip of his shoe.

"Oops," he grimaces as Emil lands with an "Oof!"

"Leon, don't send that!" Emil cries. "If Lukas finds out we're not in Trip—!"

"Relax, Ice, he's not." He then fiddles with a few buttons on his phone (hidden from Emil's view) and shuts his screen off. All the way, Emil is gathering himself together and not looking too happy about the little stunt he pulled.

"You're insane, you know that?" he growls through his teeth. "I can't believe you. First you have me get kidnapped, then you have me forced into some modeling agency I don't know about, then you invite me on a simple outing, _then _you sneak us into Neon even though were _clearly _underage, _then_ you take us to a hotel and tell us we're going to stay overnight, and now this! Do you like making me worry about what's going to happen next?"

"Maybe. It's pretty interesting."

"You—! I—! That's it! I've had it!"

Emil honestly does not know why he chose to lunge out at Leon. Maybe it was because of the stress he had bottled up inside that was left over from his finals, maybe it was because he wanted a physical means of carrying out his message instead of having it throw back from deaf ears and a quick tongue.

Or maybe it was because he wanted to wipe that smug look clean off of Leon's face with his bare hands.

"Easy, Ice!" Leon laughs while he blocks Emil's fists one by one. He has been through worse cases with professional martial artists. This is just a walk in the park for him. The only difference is that he needs to be careful to restraint himself in case he hurts Emil. He promised Lukas nothing would come of his dear little brother, and he means to keep that promise if he wants to stay on his good side. It will prove convenient for future endeavors.

"I hate you, you stupid jerk!" Emil shouts at him, struggling to pass through his hands and claw at his face. His eyes are festering with an innate ferocity that only comes out when he is genuinely furious—something that just about never happens.

"You think you can do anything just because you're strong and rich and good-looking! How dare you do this to me!"

"I'm glad you think I'm good-looking, but I don't see why you're so mad about it, Ice. You're not half-bad, yourself." He wants to prove his point, but Emil is not in the mood to listen.

"Oh, you don't see why I'm mad, do you?" Emil snarls as Leon grabs ahold of his wrists and pins him down.

Leon, who has pressed Emil's back against the floor, looms over his friend and locks his legs with his thighs in case he tries to kick him. This is a standard procedure he practices when sparring sometimes, however, in this instance, Emil is considerably weaker and lighter than the men he fights.

"Ow…! Ow, ow, ow, ow! Leon, you ass!" Emil gasps, shutting his eyes and looking away. His face is flushed with a hint of rosy pink of shame. Despite his struggles, he is powerless to get through to Leon with his voice and now with his strength.

Why?

It is not fair.

Leon blinks. His golden eyes focus on Emil and study his expression. He does not look like he is in any pain, though his eyes are squeezed shut, and his breath is short and drawn in quick succession. Something wet, he catches with his quick sight, slides down his creamy doll-like cheek. It is too far from his forehead to be sweat. To Leon's bewilderment, the boy is crying.

"Leon, you're hurting me," he barely utters, his eyes still shut, and his lips trembling.

But he does not release his grip on Emil's wrists. He rather likes him in this position, exposed and helpless to his strength. This feeling is different from the triumph he feels when he bests a formidable opponent. Physical strength, while useful, cannot win this challenge alone. This is something that will take time and a great amount of patience. Leon has plenty of that and some more to throw around. Emil is his soul mate, after all.

"…not fair…"

He blinks again. Words came out of Emil's mouth in a faint, trailed-off slur that fades from his lips. Leon chooses to be careful and compensating.

"Ice, I'm not letting go until you tell me exactly what's wrong."

"I…" He sniffs. "I have no idea who you are."

Well, that is a first if Leon ever heard it all before. He knows Emil is unfamiliar with his career as a celebrity, however he has a feeling he means something else.

Emil continues with shaky iterations and hiccups. "I just w-wanted someone who I knew would be with me. I didn't care if she…or he…was going to be my friend or someone I'd eventually fall in love with. I just wanted to have someone else I could be myself around…but I can't even do that if I don't know who that person is!"

His voice cracks. The skin around his wrists is sore and red. His palms are a ghostly white from the lack of blood circulating in his veins. Leon's strong hands continue to squeeze hard until he feels the thin bones in the middle. The human body is a remarkable thing, so resilient yet so fragile at the same time. To Leon, however, Emil is even more than that.

"Ice…do you really hate me?"

The question leaves his lips unexpectedly, and he does not expect an answer right away. Two more tears fall from Emil's eyes, and even more hiccups and sniffles follow. Emil is not an ugly crier; rather, he is quite attractive. In his weakened image, his fragility opens up a delicate side of him that blooms in pink splashes on otherwise porcelain skin. Seeing how helpless he is begs for Leon to crush him and destroy him with a childish impulse, but he holds it back and lets his tears run dry and his breathing slow down to a predictable rhythm.

With a stabilizing composure and perfectly round cheeks blushing a white-hot red, Emil opens his eyes, the tears reflecting a glimmering light in his pale lilac orbs. Something in Leon seizes up, and in a short moment, a nagging underlying feeling in his mind confirms itself. Fiery pools of molten gold reflect in cold stones of lavender, and to the other, the same. Leon knows the answer already because as far as he is concerned, this is the way things are supposed to be. How he makes of this from here on out is up to him. He will take the reins and the responsibilities. Emil, he knows, is far too fragile to handle things on his own. It is at this moment when Leon vows to nurture Emil Steilsson into the ideal entity of his existence—that existence being to exist for him, Leon Wang.

And when Emil reaches that point, it will be beautiful.

"No," he says.

As expected.

"No, I don't hate you. I don't—"

His words stop there. This is not the first time Leon has done this, and he is sure it will not be the last. The only thing he hears is the stifled sound of Emil's surprised gasp when his lips are sealed off. The taste…Leon cannot put it quite into words, but he thinks he can identify a hint of butter and sugar. Bread, perhaps. In a millisecond of his thoughts, he reminds himself to pay a visit to Mathias' bakery before immersing himself into the rest of the moment. As for touch, Emil's lips are as delicate and soft as flower petals but all the more tantalizing. Beyond Emil's skin smelling of a soft flowery soap mixed with the tempting saltiness of his tears, Leon thinks he can smell lotus flowers in bloom.

* * *

Just like that, with a bit of background checking and patience, his expectations are made clear—Emil is not in Trip. The photos he is sent are clear fabrication images. As if that ignorant celebrity thought he could trick him like a naïve fool.

Lukas clenches his fists and steps through the large golden gate leading into the other side, into the other district. Behind him, Mathias is barred off by security guards, yelling protests and telling Lukas to wait for him, but Lukas ignores his voice and marches forth. He does not need a directory to tell him where he wants to go. The tallest building stands high above the designer retail stores and restaurants; its name is spoken from the mouths of multiple businesspeople and showing up far too many times in the mass media world. The powers that be are more influential, spreading their financial and social wisdom throughout the elite district, to the city, to the country, and even to the world.

Lukas Bondevik knows where he needs to go to, to the place where he can find the root of this all, and to the person that will ultimately know of Leon and Emil's true whereabouts: Yao Wang.

* * *

_A lot of stuff happens in this chapter. _

_*That completely INCORRECT unofficial name for Hong Kong. "Kaoru" isn't Cantonese. It isn't even Chinese for that matter. It's based off of a mistranslation from Hong Kong meaning "Fragrant Harbor" in Chinese that carried over to loosely sound like "Kaoru" in Japanese. I only ever use it in my stories to poke fun of it._

* * *

_By the way, since finals are a few weeks away, I won't be able to write this story until late May. Since this is the 11__th__ chapter of this story, I'm aiming on getting 50 reviews before getting the next chapter out. We can do it, everyone! As always, I appreciate every bit of feedback and compliments from you!_


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